


The Palace Without Entrance

by Anonymous_Ostrich



Series: The Palace Series [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Splash Free, Angst, Arabian AU, M/M, Romance, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 82,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Ostrich/pseuds/Anonymous_Ostrich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The order of life has been disturbed. A cursed palace without an entrance looms over the sand in the middle of the desert. A throne sits without a Prince. Hafa, Makarim, Rim, Reem, Najiya and an array of new friends must find a way to set things right before reality collapses and their threads of fate are severed forever.</p><p>Sequel to "The Palace That Rose From the Sands"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
> [](http://i57.tinypic.com/2u3wlrt.png)  
>   
> 

It appeared in a cloud of suffocating black smoke and the putrid smell of brimstone. The form it chose was a glistening black snake, enormous in size, tightly coiled within the summoning space, sleek head raised intimidatingly high.

The boy had been preparing for this moment for weeks. Even so, he felt himself shake under the snake's penetrating gaze, his eyes unblinking and staring in both horror and awe.

"Such a young boy, summoning such a storied and feared djinn," the creature hissed, red eyes blazing. "How many years are you? Ten? Twelve?"

The boy steeled himself, trying to remember everything he'd read about this ritual. Djinn _lie_. They manipulate. When trapped by humans, they try any number of underhanded tricks to ensure their freedom. He couldn't let himself be distracted.

"I'm your new master. My age shouldn't matter." came the boy's stiff reply.

"Oooh," the djinn flicked his tongue out amusedly. "Look at the brave face the child puts on. Tell me, boy, do you have any idea who I am?"

The boy narrowed his eyes only slightly. "Of course I do. You're Sharik the Bloody, one of the most powerful djinn that Solomon ever enslaved."

Sharik drew himself up higher, opening his mouth to expose his terrifying fangs. "And you still thought it wise to summon me? For what purpose, pray tell? Is there a little human girl whom you fancy?" The ifrit scoffed. "Should I make her fall in love with you? Oh, let me guess… The boys in the village are giving you a tough time, and you want me to scare them off, yeah? _Please_ tell me, o master, what a little tiny human like you could _possibly_ want of me."

The boy's lips pressed together firmly. He cleared his throat, making sure to say everything correctly and clearly. "I want you to heal someone for me."

The snake stared at the boy as if he'd gone mad. "Heal someone? Are you being serious?"

"Extremely."

Sharik laughed then, a sound that started off as a soft, demonic chuckle and erupted into a guffaw that might have knocked him over had the summoning circle been roomier. The boy wondered if there was any way short of a miracle that the racket didn't wake the entire village.

"Goodness me… I nearly thought I'd misheard you. You took the time and energy to learn how to summon djinn, learn how to create a moderately impressive summoning circle, and then chose to summon one of the worst ifrits in mankind's history just to _heal_ someone?" He took a breath for air, his laughter still coming out in short huffs. "That's _far_ sillier than anything I could have come up with."

"What's silly about it?" the boy asked defensively. He admonished himself mentally a moment later, realizing that he let the djinn get to him after all.

"You humans have healers and physicians, do you not?" Sharik asked. "Why summon a djinn to do the job?"

"He's beyond mortal help. They've all seen to him, and no one can help him."

"Everyone dies, foolish child. It's better to learn that lesson early on and mourn your kin then think you can play Solomon every time you need a miracle."

"He's not _my_ kin," the boy retorted hotly, "and your opinion doesn't matter. I'm your master, I summoned you, and I control you right now. So if I want something done, you do it."

"Oh-ho?" Sharik hissed snidely. His coils shifted excitedly within his space, his eyes twinkling. "So I was close? Are you trying to win over the love of your young life by saving _her_ father, perhaps? So _selfless_. So _heroic_."

The boy reddened and looked away. "He's not…Look, just shut up! Can you do it or can't you?"

Sharik regarded the boy for a long moment before answering. "Tell me something. How did you learn my name?"

"I asked you a question!" the boy said angrily.

"And I will answer your question. Right after you tell me where you learned my name."

The boy frowned and crossed his arms. "I really don't see how it's any of your business. What difference does it make?"

Sharik sighed loudly. "Come now. If you're truly my master, what harm could it possibly do to humor your servant just a little? I'm curious by nature. Knowledge of my name is scarce. You must either be incredibly skilled at finding information or you just got lucky."

There was a pronounced silence as the boy weighed the pros and cons of giving the ifrit information. Regrettably, Sharik had a point. What harm could it do? The creature was confined, and the sooner the mystery was out of the way, the sooner they could move on and discuss the terms of his servitude.

"I found a book." the boy finally said reluctantly.

"You can read?" Sharik asked in surprise. The boy's chest swelled with pride.

"My father taught me. He collects books from traveling vendors whenever he can. He bought a book last year and let me read it. It spoke of Solomon's greatest victories and accomplishments. It mentioned you, and several others."

" _Accomplishments_ ," Sharik hissed scornfully. "Did it happen to mention that all of Solomon's _accomplishments_ were made possible by the power of the djinn he branded? Did it speak of all of his heroic victories, won by the djinn he sent out into the fray as he sat back on his throne, counting his gold and making love to countless human women?"

"That's-"

"Did it also mention, o master, that he destroyed many of the djinn in his charge? And those he didn't destroy were ripped to pieces, unable to return to their original form and power?"

"Enough!" the boy shouted, leveling the snake a fierce look. "None of that matters to me! _Can_ you save man's life, or _can't_ you?"

Sharik tilted his head in thought. "I should be able to," he said, "but not without help. You see, I was one of the lucky djinn that escaped Solomon with my life. However, he tore my essence asunder, and because of this, my power is limited."

The boy's expression softened. "Well then… What would you need in order to do it?"

The snake seemed to smile, flickering light from the lantern on the nearby table dancing off of his ebony scales. "Your trust," came Sharik's sultry reply. "I would need you to let me use your body."

"What…? You mean like _possession_?!" the boy exclaimed. Surely this was a trick. In all the reading he'd done, the topic of possession had only come up once, and it was very clear that it was not a good idea, no matter the reason.

"Not like possession," Sharik said. "Staying in the mortal realm - your world - for any amount of time is damaging to me, you see. I'm in pain as we speak. Since I can't linger here for long without risking death, I need a mortal vessel to latch onto so that I may exist here without fading away. Do you understand? If you let me latch on to your body, I can carry out any _number_ of amazing feats. Then I could _easily_ save this tragically ill person you speak of. Doesn't that sound like a good deal?"

It sounded like a trick. No, it _had_ to be a trick. Even if Sharik was telling the truth, this didn't sound like something that would end even remotely well. On the other hand, if Sharik was indeed telling the truth, then all of this would have been for nothing. All of the other djinn named in the book had already been tried. He hadn't wanted to summon the strongest, fiercest djinn of the bunch in the first place, as it seemed particularly dangerous for his first summoning attempt, but the others simply didn't respond when he'd summoned. Judging by what Sharik had just told him, he assumed now that they were all long dead, destroyed by Solomon.

"No," the boy said decidedly. "You're going to have to figure out something else. I'm not giving you permission to do anything like that."

The eyes of the snake were unblinking, his form unnaturally still. He could swear the room had just become colder, and the lantern on the table flickered wildly.

"I see," Sharik said calmly. "Well, o master, do you mind telling me one last thing? Where is this book? I'm _dreadfully curious_ as to where you are keeping it."

The boy betrayed himself by letting his anxious gaze flick to the table, where the book sat atop a small pile of newer, better preserved tomes that hadn't seen quite as many years. The look on Sharik's face marked his confirmation, and the boy could have kicked himself if it wouldn't risk him falling out of the protective circle. Instead, he nervously fondled the charm on the bracelet circled around his wrist.

"Mm. I have a bit of advice for you, my master. When summoning a djinn of indeterminable power, making sure all of your calculations are correct before doing so is an absolute _necessity_. If even the tiniest rune or line was misplaced, the djinn you summon could kill you in less time than it would take you to speak its name."

"I - I know that!" the boy exclaimed, flustered. "I don't need you to tell me! My circle is perfect!"

He was just trying to scare him. This is what djinn do. They lie, they bluff, and they play on the insecurities and fears of humans. This djinn was clever, but it was nothing the boy couldn't handle. He was confident in the lines he'd drawn, he'd checked them over more times than he could count. He'd read everything he could find about summoning and controlling djinn, even when he'd had to hide those taboo books from his parents under a loose board beneath his bed.

"It _is_ well-done, boy, I'll give you that." Sharik said, glossy head swaying, forked tongue wagging. "Not many your age have accomplished as much. But I'm not commenting on the _quality_ of your lines. In being precise, you must also leave no margin for error."

Despite what the boy told himself, there was something akin to excitement hidden in Sharik's words that unnerved him. Sharik was staring at a fixed spot behind him, his shrewd gaze unwavering and deliberately leading; the boy reluctantly followed his eyes, feeling a growing dread as the seconds ticked on. His eyes widened, his heart pounded in his ears, and his lips parted but no sound came out.

There was a mouse.

The boy had no qualms with mice - _or_ rats for that matter - but this particular mouse was sitting on the outermost line of the protective circle, it's small furry body streaked with chalk, its small paws holding a piece of food it had undoubtedly nabbed from the kitchen. The boy was positive that his blood had turned to ice, and every last strand of hair on the back of his head stood rigid with terror.

When he turned back around, he let out a panicked yelp. The snake's face was inches away from his own, red eyes boring into his, a cold tongue flicking out and brushing over his nose.

"I should thank you," Sharik's voice was a low rumble, sweet and terrible, his massive ebony form looming over the shaking fool of a boy. Their proximity was so close the boy could feel the cold emanating from the terrifying corporeal body of the snake, freezing him over with the terrible realization that death was near, _so incredibly_ near. "Being summoned is more trouble than it's worth, but you did me the kindness of summoning me to the last known earthly mention of my name. I can ensure that you are the very last human to ever call on me. So sorry that your intentions were so pure in nature... It's really a shame."

The snake lunged and the boy fell backwards with a shout, hitting the table and sending the books flying. The lantern overturned and rolled off the table, shattering into a pile of glass, oil and fire. The flame quickly spread to the antique carpet rolled against the door, filling the room with smoke in no time at all.

The boy frantically scrambled backwards, his shoulders colliding with the wall behind him. Sharik was surveying the growing fire, intrigued, fire light dancing on his scales. "Nothing cleanses quite like fire," he sighed contentedly, his gaze methodically turning to regard the petrified boy quaking in the corner. "You know… I think I have _just enough_ strength to help this fire grow a little more."

Tears sliding down his cheeks, the boy choked back a sob, his hand finding the good luck charm on his bracelet that Rim had given him and grasping it for all he was worth.

.

.

.

"Wait up!" Ghazi rang, her feet planted firmly in sand, her hands anchored on her knees. "Can't we take a break for a bit?"

Aini shielded his eyes from the sun and glanced back at her, smiling reproachfully. "We're almost to the village, can you push on for just a little while longer?" Ghazi let out an exaggerated sigh of fatigue in reply. "Why not ride Fatima until we get there?"

Ghazi tightened her grip on her horse's head harness and stroked the animal's warm nose. "She's just as tired as I am! We've been out of oats for ages!"

Aini chuckled. "It's been a few hours. We'll buy more at the village." He looked around, searching for the shimmering dark shapes in the distance that marked their next destination. They looked closer than he was expecting. "Excuse me, Miss Maha? When can we expect to make it there?"

A beautiful woman with chestnut hair and a busty figure clad in revealing harem clothing materialized just in front of the company, her arms crossed. She yawned hugely.

"Within the hour, I think. Just keep up the pace!" she said, in a tone that was meant to convey encouragement but just ended up sounding mildly condescending. Ghazi flashed the jann an icy look.

"I'm still not used to all this, you know!" she said defensively. "My stamina isn't exactly suitable for these conditions!"

"You've been doing wonderfully so far," Aini pointed out seriously, hoping he wasn't fanning the fire with unintentional pandering.

"Well, I'm no where near Hafa's level. He always looks like the desert doesn't bother him at all, even on the hottest days." Ghazi pointed out with a wistful sigh. Aini slowed his pace to match Ghazi's a bit more closely.

"That's because Haru was trapped in the desert for years!" he whispered pointedly. "He's gotten numb to it by now!"

"It's not a difficult thing to get used to," Hafa called back to his two companions, unsure as to why they continually forgot that whispering several feet away from him did little good. He was thirsty, not deaf. "It's all a matter of knowing exactly where to step."

Aini immediately reddened in embarrassment. "S-sorry, Haru, I didn't mean-"

"Where to step?" Ghazi inquired, cutting off Aini's rushed apology, "You mean there's a trick to it?"

A drifting breeze picked up and ruffled Hafa's keffiyeh and scarf, dusting his nose with sand. His camel prodded him in the shoulder with an urgent snort, something he usually did when he sensed water was nearby. Hafa's eyes flicked up and fixed on the horizon, noting the previously undefined shapes that were beginning to turn into houses, modest buildings and a shining sliver of ocean running along the west perimeter of the village. From here, the settlement looked meager, but large enough to house plenty of traders and merchants to meet their needs. They didn't need much, anyway: feed for the animals, a bit of food for themselves and a place to rest their head for the night that wasn't a dusty, uncomfortable tent. Hafa didn't particularly dislike the tents, in fact, they rather reminded him of Makarim when the wind beat against the thin walls, and the reminiscence helped him sleep with comfort. Ghazi was unaccustomed to the rough-and-tumble lifestyle, however, and so Hafa felt almost honor-bound to provide her with more comfortable sleeping conditions whenever possible.

They had been searching for Rim for five months. To Hafa, it felt like a staggering amount of time. He'd never placed much faith in time or the agonizingly systematic manner in which it carried itself, but he found it impossible to disregard since becoming entirely mortal. He was reminded of its overbearing presence every time he nicked himself or felt his stomach rumble with hunger. And now, the thought of Rim being out there stranded on the sands alone and cursed pounded a nail of guilt into his heart every passing minute, the accumulated time acting as the mallet. Every time he would catch himself losing hope, Ghazi and Aini's unwavering faith would bring him back from the looming darkness and he would push on.

He missed Makarim terribly. They had returned to the city only once since their initial departure, to reunite with their friends and give them an update on their progress. (Or lack thereof.) They had also hoped to hear word of Siraj al Din's whereabouts, but he was still unaccounted for.

The situation hadn't allowed for much private time with Makarim, but that was expected. For fear of wanting to delay any longer, they hadn't lingered long, leaving after only one night and part of a day. Hafa didn't feel right being content for even a moment while Rim was still lost to the sands.

"When you step, don't let yourself sink into the sand. Feel it in your feet and shift your weight when you walk so that you are forming your own footsteps." Hafa explained coolly. Ghazi looked down, took a careful step, and frowned.

"I don't think I understand." she said.

"Feel the sand under your feet-"

"That's exactly what I don't understand!" Ghazi cut in sharply. Miss Maha giggled.

Aini swallowed a generous gulp of water from his flask and resumed his earlier pace. "We'll be there soon, so I wouldn't worry too much about- Ghazi? What is it?"

When they looked back Ghazi was stopped, her gaze fixed somewhere distant, her brows drawn in concern. Hafa and Aini followed her eyes and squinted at the large form that loomed in the distance, far south of the village. It was hard to make out as anything more than a shape from where they stood, but Hafa thought he could see towers and a domed ceiling. The desert heat was making it difficult to focus on anything significant.

"What is that?" Aini asked, standing on tip-toes and shielding his eyes with both hands.

Ghazi was still staring, her pink mouth forming a small 'o' of intrigue. "It looks like a palace." she said.

Hafa silently agreed. He glanced up at Maha, who was floating just above them, also staring at the far-off structure. "Do you know what that is?"

The jann shrugged her shoulders. "It _does_ look like a palace, but it doesn't look familiar." she said. "Whatever it is, it looks abandoned. I try and stay away from ruins whenever possible… Too many ghuls running around."

"Ghuls?" Aini chimed curiously.

"Dirty djinn who enjoy spending their time in abandoned areas and graveyards." Maha explained with a shiver. "They've never been fond of jann, and I suppose we've never been fond of them. Strictly speaking, we don't much care for one another."

"Ghazi," Hafa prompted, gaining Ghazi's wide-eyed attention, "should we go there tomorrow?"

A light breeze blew strands of maroon hair over Ghazi's face as she nodded. "I'd like to. Seems mysterious, doesn't it?"

Hafa looked back toward the palace. The longer he looked, the more uneasy he felt. His instincts were telling him that investigating it was a poor choice, but the possibility of finding Rim there made him ignore the growing feeling of dread that was clawing at his insides.

.

.

.

They arrived at their destination just as the sun was drawing nearer to the western sky, painting the sky orange and red. Up close, the village was much more ramshackle than they had previously assumed, and oddly quiet despite it being the normal time for merchants to be selling the last of their goods for the day. The modest buildings and homes were stacked tightly together and were connected by narrow stairways and public clotheslines, and together the various property formed much of the outer wall of the village. A stream of water cradled the east side of town, and Hafa's attention was unavoidably diverted as soon as the sparkling water came within view.

The only person to be seen outside of town was a young woman, crouched by the edge of the water using a wooden laundry bat to tediously reach for something in the water. As of yet it didn't seem as if they had been noticed, and so Ghazi tentatively stepped forward, wearing a polite smile.

"Hello there, sorry to interrupt," she began, and the girl jumped, a surprised yelp tumbling from her lips. She turned toward the company with wide, guilty eyes. Ghazi immediately raised her hands apologetically. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you-"

"It isn't my fault!" the girl exclaimed, standing and letting the laundry bat fall to the ground. "There was a strong wind, it took my hijab right off and it landed in the water… I've been trying to get it back, so…!"

Aini raised a calming hand. "Slow down! We don't mean you any harm, we're just a small group of travelers who were hoping we could stay a night in the village." The girl fell confusedly silent, and so Aini carefully continued. "You live here, right?"

The girl nodded. Her eyes were fixed to the ground, her hands nervously stroking the exposed dark hair that was thrown over her shoulder. "Yes… But… You won't tell anyone, then?"

"Tell anyone what?" Ghazi asked gently.

The girl reddened. "That you saw me without my hijab?" her voice was hushed and scandalous.

Ghazi and Aini exchanged a look. "Is that important?" Aini finally asked, confused.

The look of worry on the girl's face was instantly replaced with one of incredulity. "Well… Yes. Is it not important where _you_ come from?"

The two fell awkwardly silent. It wasn't an easy thing to offhandedly mention that you had spent the last few years in a cursed palace where all of the rules and laws were created by a possessed Prince who didn't seem particularly interested in gender-based regulations. Their first experience in a neighboring kingdom more than three months back had been a harrowing one. They had nearly been attacked when Ghazi entered along with them without her hood up; it had taken Aini quite a while to talk the townsfolk out of rioting.

"We're not really from around here…" Ghazi said finally, looking to Aini for help.

"You need that or else you'll be in trouble, right?" he asked her. The girl nodded.

"It's forbidden for us to be without it. I was hoping to get it back before nightfall, but at this rate…" she wrung her hands, looking anxiously back at the water.

Hafa's eyes followed hers. Her white hijab was currently stuck on a rock some ways out, the mild current threatening to pull it away at any moment. Without hesitation, Hafa began to unravel his scarf and tossed his keffiyeh aside, approaching the water. The girl watched him with large eyes.

"What is he…?"

"Just be careful, Hafa!" Ghazi needlessly warned. She and Aini had seen Hafa do this so many times that it was no longer a surprise when he began to discard his clothing at the sight of water, nor was it unusual to have to wait for an hour at a time for him to be finished swimming. Ghazi turned back to the girl with a reassuring smile. "He'll be fine. He loves the water."

After stripping down to his undergarments, Hafa dove into the stream. He was immediately overcome with the familiar feeling of euphoria that usually accompanied the rejuvenating chill of water against his skin, and nearly lost himself in the sensation before remembering that he had an actual goal beyond his personal desire to feel the water today.

He surfaced just next to the cluster of rocks on which the white garment was snagged and carefully pulled it free. With the hijab in hand Hafa swam back to the water's edge, hoisting himself out. Ignoring how flustered the girl appeared to be handed something by a half-naked dripping wet stranger, Hafa held the hijab at arms length, his expression stony. She took it, looking at its sorry state.

"Thank you… You really didn't have to do that for me… I really can't thank you enough." she said, making furtive eye-contact before dropping her gaze to the ground. Hafa nodded, turned, and headed back to the water, sitting on the bank and letting his legs dangle in the river. She watched him go, and then diverted her attention back to Ghazi and Aini. "My name is Akilah, by the way."

Aini smiled. "Aini, and this is Ghazwa. The one over there is called Haru."

"Now that you have your hijab, everything will be alright, won't it?" Ghazi asked curiously. Akilah smiled sadly.

"It's still wet, so I'll have to wait for it to dry off. As long as no one finds me before then, it should be safe to go back."

Hafa watched the surface of the water, half-listening to the conversation. When he had been in his other form, he had observed plenty of human behavior, but no matter where he traveled, it was a man's world. From a djinn's point of view, it was all very queer. Gender meant little to djinn; both genders were equally fearsome, and their forms changed so often that it mattered little what reproductive organs they may or may not have. He hadn't even realized until Makarim pointed it out to him several months ago that two men falling in love was considered unnatural.

"We'll wait with you while it dries," Ghazi suggested kindly. "We actually had some questions about the area, if you don't mind us asking."

"Of course not," Akilah said, wringing out her hijab.

Aini pointed in the direction of the distant structure that was now just a hazy shadow on the horizon, veiled by the setting sun. "Do you know anything about that area? We passed it by earlier and it looked like it could be a temple or palace of some kind."

Akilah didn't need to look to know where Aini was indicating. Her expression became grave.

"It's an ancient palace, as far as we can tell. Legends say there's no way inside, and that Solomon was the only one to be granted entrance. The locals believe it's cursed."

Three sets of eyes were staring at Akilah with renewed interest. The mention of a curse was both unwelcome and highly tantalizing. None of them were sure if Rim would have stumbled upon such a place, but places steeped in magick were bound to give them more clues than the places they'd already searched.

"Why do they think it's cursed?" Hafa asked, standing up. Akilah seemed momentarily surprised that he had spoken.

"Every man who has ever been sent up there was never seen again. Most believe it's the work of djinn, and some think that the Goddess of Fate and Death dwells there." she said. The white camel behind them huffed and stomped.

"What do _you_ believe?" Ghazi asked curiously.

"Me?" Akilah stared at her dripping wet hijab in thought. "Well, I'm not really sure. I've never even been near it. But some nights, a strange melancholy falls over the village, and it feels as if it's coming from the south, from that place. I can't explain it. On those night, no one leaves their homes, and everyone locks their doors."

"I'm assuming it's abandoned, then." Aini inquired. Akilah nodded.

"I would think so. No one's ever seen a person wandering the area, and we don't get any frequent visitors in the village." She leveled them a concerned look. "You're not planning on going up there, are you?"

Ghazi laughed, perhaps a bit too quickly. "No, we were only curious. Like I said, we aren't from around here."

"Ah."

"One more thing," Hafa had replaced almost all of his clothing and was rummaging around in one of the bags strapped to his camel. He retrieved a yellowed page of parchment and held it gingerly in his hands. He handed it to Akilah, and she confusedly took the paper, staring at the detailed charcoal rendering of a man's bust. "Have you seen this man in the last few months?"

Akilah stared at the drawing, eyes set and determined. Finally, her face relaxed and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, no. Did you draw this?"

Hafa nodded. Akilah regarded the drawing again. "You're amazingly talented. He looks so _real_. Is it a friend of yours?" Hafa looked away and nodded again.

"He's my brother." Ghazi said with a smile.

"You should ask around the village. It's possible he's been by here and I simply didn't see him." Akilah said apologetically. Her eyes widened in abrupt realization. "Actually… If it helps, there was a man here several weeks ago who was asking if we'd seen a man with a similar description. A friend of yours? Family, maybe?"

Ghazi and Aini gasped simultaneously and lurched forward, nearly making Akilah drop the drawing.

"Was he a tall man?"

"Orange hair? Yellow eyes?"

Akilah carefully handed the parchment back to Hafa before answering. "He _was_ tall, I remember that clearly. His hair was black from what I could tell, but I only saw him from the back so I'm not sure what his face looked like. He was dressed in black and grey robes and he had a large staff with him."

Their shared disappointment was short-lived. It didn't sound like Siraj al Din, but then who _was_ it? There was some mysterious stranger asking about Rim's whereabouts. It could have been a coincidence, but Hafa had a strong hunch that it wasn't.

.

.

.

It was dark by the time Akilah's hijab was dry enough to wear.

The four of them entered the village almost entirely unnoticed and quickly found a stable to leave their animals. As was the ritual, Ghazi wore Hafa's keffiyeh inside. They had never bothered to procure a proper veil for her - disguising her as a boy tended to raise less questions and help transactions move a lot more quickly. Maha had decidedly stayed just outside, promising Hafa she would return to them once they got settled in somewhere in town.

Akilah pointed them in the direction of a kindly man who was well-known for giving travelers a place to rest for the night for a small fee; they thanked her and bid her goodnight. Since the town merchants had closed up shop for the night and a caravan was expected to arrive in the early morning, the three of them decided to turn in early.

As Hafa lay curled up under the blankets generously provided for him, he couldn't stop thinking about the palace, or the tall man who had been asking about Rim. If they went to the palace, what would they find there? Akilah told them that Solomon had been the only one to find the entrance… Could it have been because of the ring? He balled his hand into a fist and pressed it to his chest. The cool metal circled around his middle finger burned against his skin. If that was the case, they had a better chance than most to investigate the area. But what about the strange man?

A fawn-colored field mouse scampered into Hafa's bedding, choosing to curl up just next to his chin. Hafa pulled the blankets over his face.

"I have a favor I want to ask you." Hafa said quietly. The field mouse re-adjusted, stuffing its face between its front paws.

"Mm?"

"In the morning, do you think you could go ahead and check the palace for us? I'd like an idea of what to expect before we head that way."

The mouse yawned hugely. "Sure. I'm not going to get too close, though. Any place associated with Solomon is a place I'd prefer to stay away from."

Hafa stroked the mouse's fur gently with his finger three times - something Maha swore up and down she _did not_ enjoy despite the fact that she did - and then let his eyes fall closed. He was worrying too much. He missed the days when he didn't worry about anything, or more accurately, when there was nothing to worry about. He felt like that was lifetimes away, and perhaps it was.

As always, his final thoughts before he slipped into sleep were of Makarim.

.

.

.

"Shoulders back, Ru'a! Plant your front foot firmly before the lunge!"

Reem's voice was always more commanding when he was instructing. He was practically incapable of being intimidating with the children even at his most fearsome, but that was never his intention. Old habits were hard to break, even in the dusty back room of Makarim's shop.

Ru'a squared her shoulders and thinned her mouth in determination. She leaned her weight onto her right foot, braced her arms and lowered the wooden sword before the lunge. She shot forward, mindful of what her feet were doing. _Too_ mindful. Reem swatted her sword away with his, knocking her off balance. He easily caught her, her face turning up to regard him with excitable laughter.

Najiya was watching the sparring from his seat on a nearby table, swinging his legs, holding parchment in his left hand. "That was _soooo_ good, Ru'a!" he chimed proudly with a bright smile.

"What's that called, again?" Ru'a asked Reem as she righted herself.

"A counter," Reem said with a smile. "Footing is everything. If someone were to counter your attack, you have to learn how to use their own force against them."

Ru'a nodded, eyes sparkling with determination. "Okay, let's go again!"

"Wait just a moment," Reem said, turning to Rani, who was standing at the back of the room clutching his wooden sword as if it were a newborn. "Rani? Did you want a turn?"

Rani nearly started. He shook his head resolutely. "N-no, if Ru'a wants another turn, she can go."

Ru'a shot her brother a scornful look. "You said that if I learned how to fight, you'd learn with me!" she accused. He frowned in reply, turning away from her stare pointedly.

"If you like it so much, do it by yourself!" he said. Reem cleared his throat.

"Rani, if you don't want to learn, no one is going to force you. You were doing very good the other day, so I assumed you thought it was fun." he said gently. Rani's expression softened.

"It's kind of fun, but it's kind of scary, too." he said in a small voice.

"Reem wouldn't _really_ hurt us, Rani," Ru'a said admonishingly, and he shot her a glare.

"I know that!" he countered. "It isn't that…"

An awkward silence fell over the room, finally broken by an impatient huff from Ru'a. Najiya smiled, leaning back on the table. "It's scary to think about, right? What you're really learning to do?"

Rani didn't answer. Ru'a huffed again. Reem smiled. "It's only self-defense, Rani. No one is expecting you to arm yourself and go out into the world expecting a fight. It's a respectable practice in its own right, and sword-fighting can be a very beautiful art form."

The boy looked up curiously. "Beautiful?"

"Mm," Reem nodded. "It's very similar in nature to dancing, if you want to think of it that way."

An enthusiastic gasp of agreement erupted from the table, and Najiya threw his good arm in the air. "You're right! I never thought of it that way before!"

Rani reddened. "Like dancing?"

"Yes. Exactly like dancing."

"Enough talking!" Ru'a announced, brandishing her wooden sword triumphantly in the air. "Let's go again!"

"Alright, alright," Reem laughed, getting into position. The sound of heavy footsteps coming down the steps distracted them, and all eyes moved to the staircase as Makarim entered, a box hoisted on his shoulder.

"You're all down here?" he observed with a chuckle, setting the box down carefully.

"Big brother!" Ru'a squeaked happily, jumping in place and swinging her sword. "Watch me! Reem is teaching me how to avoid a counter!"

"Is he?" Makarim asked with a smile, finding a comfortable spot to stand next to Najiya, well out of their way.

Both contenders found their positions, Ru'a remembering to straighten her shoulders this time. The little girl lunged. Reem countered her, but she managed to shift her weight onto her other foot and stick her sword just under Reem's right armpit. Najiya began clapping joyously.

"I did it!" Ru'a squealed, throwing her arms around Reem's waist. "That was good, wasn't it?"

"Incredibly!" Reem replied.

Ru'a peeked around Reem to regard her big brother. "Did you see? Wasn't I good?"

Makarim approached the two of them, placing one hand on Reem's back and the other on Ru'a's head. "That was _very_ good. Though, I still feel nervous, seeing you learn something so violent."

Reem flourished his hand dismissively. "It's nothing to do with violence! I feel it's important to teach the basics of self-defense, especially after everything we've been through."

"That's true, but…"

"It's a lot like dancing!" Rani piped up, still holding his sword uncertainly. "I'm going to get good at it, too!"

"You mean it this time? You won't chicken out?" Ru'a challenged snidely.

"I won't!" Rani proclaimed.

Makarim laughed. "Alright, that's enough for today, don't you think? Could I have you two go up and watch the shop for a bit? It's been slow today, but I still don't think it's a good idea to leave the front unmanned for too long."

Both eager to please their brother, the twins carefully put their wooden practice swords away and scrambled up the stairs. Makarim watched them go with a fond smile.

"Ru'a really likes learning this stuff, doesn't she?" he asked.

Reem smiled, setting his wooden sword against the table. "I can't say the same for Rani. Some days he's enthusiastic to learn, but as soon as we try to practice, he shuts down."

"He's a gentler soul than Ru'a. He just needs some time." Makarim offered. Reem looked down, brows drawn in thought.

"I don't want to push him into doing anything he's uncomfortable with. I suggested this initially because I thought it would be important for them to learn to defend themselves. After everything that happened several months ago… Well, it would make me feel better knowing that they knew how to protect themselves if something were to happen." Immediately Reem felt as though he had said something wrong, and with a reflexive mental jerk he tried to redeem himself. "Not that anything _would_ happen, only if… ..." He paused, abandoning that thought and all others like it. "And of course, if you don't want me to teach them anymore, I'll stop immediately. I really have their best interests in mind, but I'm not their brother, so-"

"Reem, _breathe_ ," Makarim said kindly. He pressed a hand to Reem's arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "It's not that I disapprove of you teaching them self-defense. I think it's good for them, and Ru'a loves it. It just pains me that we live in the sort of world where children would have to learn to defend themselves _at all_."

Najiya watched the men closely, and as a melancholy silence reigned over them, he sought to break it with a bright smile. "What are we all getting so worried for? Everything's been great lately, hasn't it? That new trade route opened up in Mecca, and it's been giving us a lot more business. The city has gotten back on its feet and everyone is really happy! It's a time to feel good about stuff!"

Makarim forced a smile. "I guess you're right. Maybe we're all still so wrapped up in the past that it's hard to see all of the positives."

"That's the spirit!" Najiya chirped.

"Najiya," Makarim started, regarding the parchment he was clutching in his good hand, "are you doing inventory?"

"Yeah," Najiya replied, quirking a brow. "Why?"

"Why?" Makarim echoed, laughing. "I told you, you didn't have to worry about that anymore! You two have your own business now, I can't expect you to still take the time-"

"Mako, it's _fine_ ," Najiya sighed with an added eye-roll. "I can do this much, at least! Besides, Reem is pretty particular with how the books are kept at our shop, and he doesn't like me messing around with them too much-"

"There's a specific order! You don't always follow the order!" Reem pointed out hotly.

"Don't be such a nitpicker!" Najiya pouted.

Reem sighed. "At any rate, we closed up shop early today. We've run short on stock. There's a caravan coming through here in the next couple of days and I'm hoping to see what they have that we might want to trade for."

Najiya snickered. "What will Haru think when he comes back and sees that we have a jewelry shop now?" he said wonderingly.

Reem chuckled. "I don't suppose he'll care too much, but he might be surprised."

Makarim's lips pulled into something of a smile, damaged around the edges but not entirely without joy. Reem and Najiya noticed his demeanor dissolve immediately and felt guilt wash over them. Talking about Haru was difficult. It wasn't as if he was gone from them forever, but he wasn't _here_. While Reem and Najiya got the comfort of enjoying each other's company every single day, Makarim had only seen Haru once since he'd left, and there was no way of knowing when Rim would ever be found. They had been together so briefly and yet it seemed so jarring for them to be apart. It was obvious every day how much worry and loneliness Makarim was carrying.

With a grunt, Makarim hoisted the box back onto his shoulder. "If you two closed up shop early, why not take it easy for the rest of the afternoon?" Makarim suggested with a smile. "I certainly won't stop you if you want to hang around here and help out, but there really isn't that much to be done… You should go spend some time alone together. It isn't often you get the house to yourself without the twins, right?"

As tempting as the proposal was and as red as Reem's face had just become, Najiya hopped off of the table, inventory parchment in hand. "I don't mind sticking around at least until the inventory's all done. Right, Reem?"

"Hmm? Ah, y-yes," Reem answered, still trying to tame his mortification.

"If you insist," Makarim laughed, rolling his shoulder for a more secure grip and then heading into the next room, a smaller, darker storage closet under the stairs. Reem and Najiya watched him go.

"You shouldn't have mentioned Haru," Reem whispered reproachfully.

"I kn _ooo_ w," Najiya whined guiltily. He pressed a quick kiss to Reem's mouth before hurriedly following after Makarim, disappearing through the narrow doorway under the stairs.

The small room always smelled strongly of clay dust purely because it was so poorly ventilated. With nowhere to escape the dust caked the floor and shelves, stirred only if something was moved or set down, spiraling into the air in a suffocating cloud that would settle again somewhere nearby. Presently the smell of freshly disturbed dust was filling Najiya's nose as he entered the room, and he tried and failed to stifle a violent sneeze.

"Sorry," Najiya offered weakly, rubbing his nose. Makarim was making room for the box on a low shelf.

"You never _really_ get used to it," Makarim said with a laugh. He looked over his shoulder at Najiya, brows raised. "Did you need something, Najiya?"

"Ahh," Najiya rubbed his arm, realizing he hadn't formed any sort of dialogue before going after Makarim in the first place. "Kind of…"

"Is it your arm?" Makarim asked in alarm, face suddenly twisted in concern. "Are you having pains in it again?"

"Wh- No! No, the arm's fine… Look!" Najiya raised his arm and bent the elbow several times as proof. "It's feeling a lot better. I came in here to ask if _you_ were alright."

Makarim's mouth opened in apparent surprise, but for a long moment, he said nothing. Finally, he smiled, a smile as warm as it was dismissing. "You don't have to worry about me. I won't say that I'm not missing him, but I know he'll be back. It'll just be a little lonely until then."

"I know, but…" Najiya nibbled on his bottom lip. "I hate to see you so- Mako?"

Makarim suddenly teetered and grabbed one of the shelves to catch his balance, knocking off a small vase that Najiya was quick enough to catch before it hit the floor. Najiya hastily set the vase aside.

"Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?"

Raising a trembling hand to his head, Makarim swept some hair away from his face. "I'm fine. I felt a little faint all of a sudden."

"Do you have a fever? You should lay down right away and rest!" Najiya exclaimed worriedly.

"There's no need for that," Makarim assured, taking his weight off the shelf. "It was just a dizzy spell. Besides, I have a package to pick up-"

"I'll go and get if for you!" Najiya said urgently.

"No, you won't," Makarim replied sternly. "I'm fine. I'll rest for a minute, drink some water, and then I'll be off." Noting Najiya's crestfallen expression, Makarim smiled. "Thank you for worrying, but really, I'm alright."

.

.

.

The sun was to blame. It was so incredibly hot today, Makarim had never been more thankful that water had returned to the kingdom.

He hadn't meant to worry Najiya. He had wanted to steal himself away in the storage closet because he'd felt it creeping up on him, that nauseating sensation that spread into his back and chest and sometimes made it hard to breathe. The attacks were always so fleeting that he usually had no problem riding through them without being noticed. Makarim was sure that these instances were nothing to worry about. He was working harder than usual. He had to distract himself somehow or he would go mad with worry, and working in the shop was keeping him plenty busy now that there was a slew of new customers to appeal to. He'd been working the kiln twice as hard over the last couple of months, which no doubt led to these strange spells. He tried not to think too hard on it.

It had also been a scorching summer, and since today was particularly hot, Makarim was convinced that the heat was the culprit. He'd spent a good portion of the afternoon unloading boxes behind the shop without taking a proper break - he was bound to suffer some kind of negative after-effects.

Was Haru staying cool somewhere? Hopefully they weren't all lumbering around in the middle of the sands in this heat. Knowing Haru, he would have found a place near a clear, cool water source and camped out there until the heat-wave was over.

Makarim was so consumed in his thoughts that he nearly passed up the small fabric shop he had been heading towards. The keeper greeted him warmly with a smile and a small parcel of high-quality dyes that Makarim enthusiastically paid for. He thanked the old man and headed for home, the idea of taking a rest sounding better and better the longer the unforgiving sun beat down on him.

Out of habit, Makarim passed by the giant mound of sand that was once Rim's palace. He made a point to look at it whenever possible, to help remind him that it really _had_ been there, and all of that really _did_ happen. Today as he looked up at the pile, he saw something unusual.

Men he didn't recognize surrounded Rim's throne, the only piece of the palace that hadn't crumbled away with the rest of the structure. Their robes were thick and dark, ill-suited for the heat, and their faces were red and sweaty as proof. They looked to be speaking avidly to one another, some of them inspecting the chair closely, some of them seeming deep in thought.

It wasn't unusual for people to take a gander at the throne from time to time; it had quickly become the town mystery, the unknown relic that sat among an unclaimed pile of sand and earth, but Makarim had never seen these men in town before, or their heavy robes.

Feeling unnerved, Makarim hurried along, leaving the unfamiliar congregation far behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeey guuuuysssss. ヽ(；▽；)ノ
> 
> Finally I can get working on this! It was so much fun to revisit this world and start writing about this again. I missed it! It's hard to remember Nagisa=Najiya Makoto=Makarim etc, after writing other non-arabic things for a few months, though. I'll get back into the swing of things pretty quick. 
> 
> Sorry if this chapter was a tad uneventful? I'm setting up a tremendous amount of things, so... Yeah. A lot's going to happen really rapidly. Also: Zaki-chan! I really wanted to include her in the first one, but there wasn't any room for her. She was one of my favorite characters in High Speed!, she really doesn't get enough love!
> 
> Anyway it's great to be back writing Palace! I still need to write the last chapter of Erotomania, (I was hoping to have it done by the time I started this one,) but I was just too impatient after Eternal Summer ended and I really wanted to get a chapter of this out. I hope you guys like it, and thanks for supporting me this whole time!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hafa runs into a troublesome thief, Reem and Najiya meet a Sultan, and Maha is nowhere to be found.

His lungs were on fire. Before any other thought could float into Rim's tepid consciousness, of this he was absolutely certain.

It burned. Every strained breath was like pulling fire into his lungs, but it was impossible to stop. As the searing pain ran rampant through him, Rim could only breathe and accept it.

Sensation hit him before sight, trapping him in a dark box of pain and discomfort. He wasn't sure which way was up, and he felt oddly detached from his body. It was almost like when he'd been shackled in his own mind by Sharik, except he vaguely felt like he had more control. Almost like waking up from a long sleep. As the agony in his lungs began to fade, new pains began to assault his previously unfeeling body. His muscles felt as if they were made of wood, stretching and contracting painfully within his skin. Rim wanted to scream but he was too busy gasping for air. His chest and back felt much like his lungs had moments ago, ravaged by a fiery inferno.

As if he'd been released by an unseen force, Rim's eyes opened and he sucked in an enormous breath of air, immediately choking and rolling over on his side. His head was pounding and his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He continued to cough and sputter as the pain in the rest of his body began fading away as if it had been part of a bad dream. He lay like that for several minutes, working to regain control of his breathing and his limbs. It would be several more minutes until he found the clarity and strength to sit up.

Immediately Rim was met with a puzzling sight. He was sprawled out on the sands, but he had no idea where he was. There were no landmarks that he could see. Only an endless stretch of desert. The night was clear and cool, blowing a refreshing breeze over Rim's stunned form.

Rim shut his eyes and opened them again. The same scene greeted him, and he tried again and was met with the same results. How had he ended up here? He reached far back into his memory, trying to piece together the last few hours. It was difficult. The sensation was similar to passing out after drinking himself stupid and later trying to recount the previous evening. His memories were a sloppy blur.

Groaning in frustration, Rim shakily rose to his feet, nearly stumbling on the sand dune. Bracing his hands on his knees, Rim rather suddenly vomited, the bile stinging his throat. Gasping, Rim wiped his mouth, moving unsteadily away from the mess. Why did his body feel so numb and unresponsive? Trying to master himself, Rim stopped walking when he spotted a narrow body of water some feet away, the surface shimmering invitingly, reflecting the sky. Rim immediately made to it, dropping to his knees and scooping a handful of water to his lips.

The cool water instantly soothed his aching throat, and Rim sighed, sitting back to rest. He closed his eyes, breathing a deep sigh. What had happened? Why was he out here in the middle of no where? He wasn't even sure which way was home. A sudden pang in his chest made his eyes snap open. _Home_. The palace? What had happened at the palace?

A flickering memory surfaced, and Rim looked down at himself. The front of his robes were badly torn and soaked in blood. Rim inhaled breath so suddenly that he succumbed to another coughing fit.

He remembered everything. He and Sharik had been separated. He, Hafa, Makarim, Reem and Najiya had made their way underground to free Hafa of his curse. They'd almost been killed. And then…

Rim placed a hand over his chest, feeling for the hole that should have been there. He'd been impaled. Even now, the horrible pain of it was embedded in his brain, still fresh. He pressed his fingertips against his skin. There was nothing. His skin was smooth and free of abrasions. How could that be possible?

Taking another drink from the river, Rim stood up and surveyed his surroundings. Still unsure on which direction to travel, Rim began walking East, following the moon. The water puzzled him as well. Although he'd never been sure how it all worked, he knew that some time ago, he'd allowed Sharik to trick him into removing all of the natural water from the land. Yet here he was, walking adjacent to an abundance of water stretching out further than his eyes could see. A familiar guilt flared within him. He'd taken away the water to make Hafa suffer after he'd cursed him.

Rim stopped. He glanced up at the sky, eyes wide in realization. _The curse_. To be forever trapped on the sands, doomed to wander without ever finding his way. Rim looked back down at his blood-soaked robes. He had died. He took his final breath in Hafa's arms, but still he woke here, in the middle of no where.

It seemed impossible, but Rim was never one for second-guessing the impossible.

.

.

.

Hafa and his company woke early and thanked their generous host before leaving.

Maha disappeared with the promise of returning soon, and as the caravan arrived, the remaining three spread out and purchased supplies. Once Hafa was satisfied with the amount of food he'd purchased, he sought out and asked several villagers if they'd seen Rim; each and every one admitted they had not, no matter how long they stared at the drawing. Hafa knew it was a slim chance that Rim would have met anyone along his journey, but still he felt dejected whenever someone confirmed his worries.

When Hafa rejoined with Aini and Ghazi, the three of them loaded their newly-bought supplies onto their animals and agreed to kill time while they waited for Maha to return with a report.

"Did you two notice anything strange about the sun this morning?" Ghazi asked as they walked. Aini cocked his head curiously.

"The sun...?"

"Yeah." Ghazi continued, unperturbed by her companions obvious confusion, "When I woke up, it seemed like the sun rose earlier than it was meant to. I didn't think much of it at first, but it's been nagging at me all day."

"I didn't notice." Aini admitted.

"Hafa?" Ghazi implored. She knew that he rarely offered his opinion without being prompted. Hafa thought about it and then shook his head.

"I wasn't awake when the sun rose, so I don't know."

Truthfully, what Ghazi said made sense to him in a way he couldn't easily explain. He'd felt that way several times over the last few months, not necessarily about the sun, but the passage of time in particular. He'd assumed his newer, ignorant mortal viewpoint was to blame, but now that Ghazi had mentioned it, he was starting to feel uneasy.

While he was lost in thought, Hafa hadn't noticed the young man that was nearing them on the street, and he barely registered when the two of them collided shoulder to shoulder until he heard the stranger speak.

"Ahh, sorry about that!" Amber eyes squinted apologetically and the young man nodded to them politely before hurrying off. Hafa was stuck in a dumb silence, following the stranger's back with his eyes.

"That looked like..." Ghazi's eyes were wide; she was also staring.

"The spitting image of Siraj al Din, right?" Aini finished for her, and Ghazi firmly nodded. There was no doubt about that. Fiery orange hair, burning amber eyes, same nose and mouth... Forget family resemblance, that boy purely looked like a younger version of Siraj al Din.

"Should we go after him?" Ghazi asked. "Should we ask him?"

"It's the first lead of any kind we've found. I think we should." Aini answered.

Hafa agreed, but he was distracted. Something didn't feel quite right. He had been momentarily jarred by the striking resemblance to their friend that he hadn't realized how strange it was that he'd been run into in the first place. The street was plenty wide enough to have allowed him to pass without such an encounter.

A jolt of fear struck Hafa as he realized. The ring. It was gone. The Seal of Solomon was no longer resting on his finger.

"He took the ring." Hafa said furiously, turning back to search for the orange-haired thief. He was already gone, conveniently lost among the crowds and stands.

"W-what! A thief?" Aini exclaimed, aghast. Ghazi wasted no time, decisively starting off in the direction the thief had gone.

"We spread out, find that guy, surround him and get it back!" she commanded, and the other two nodded and split up, hurrying into the crowd.

Hafa refused to let him get away. He didn't care about the power the ring had or the history carved within it. It was Makarim's ring. Makarim had entrusted him with it, and the thought of it in someone else's hands…

Slipping into a crowd of shoppers, Hafa began his search.

.

.

.

It was likely the thief had retreated to the back streets. Ghazi wasn't sure if he knew he was being pursued or whether he was just in the habit of making stealthy getaways, but regardless he was incredibly evasive. It would be hard to close in on him while still trying to remain inconspicuous.

A flash of a teal keffiyeh covering orange hair disappeared behind a corner, and Ghazi quickly followed, hoping the other two were closing in from the other sides. She wasn't quite sure what to do if she caught the thief without backup.

Around the corner and up several sets of stone steps Ghazi spotted him. He didn't seem to have noticed her, walking along with his hands in his pockets and a spring in his step; he was eyeing the houses on his left and sticking close to the narrow pathway that wound around the district, not leaving Ghazi any space to confront him without being noticeable about it. She followed behind him at a distance, looking furtively around for Hafa or Aini. Neither of them in sight, she tried to decide what to do. If she let him roam too far he might escape them, so it was best to act immediately. Reaching her hand into her robe, her fingers touched a curved blade, previously belonging to her brother. She had never had to use it, nor did she care to. In this situation, however, it appeared necessary. If she could just take him by surprise and threaten him into returning the ring, she wouldn't have to use it and both of them could walk away unharmed. But what if he attempted to fight back...?

Swallowing her nervousness, Ghazi firmly grabbed the hilt of her knife and picked up her pace. He continued to seem oblivious to her presence, whistling to himself carelessly. Ghazi tossed a glance around them and pulled the knife just when she was nearly upon him. All she would need to do is press the tip to his back and demand the ring returned...

Before she could follow through, the thief lurched forward, hands slapping the ground and his feet flying out, knocking Ghazi off her feet. Dazed, Ghazi sat up and saw the thief running the way they'd come without so much as a glance backwards. Ghazi jumped to her feet and made to go after him, but stopped when she saw that they were about to pass under a large stone archway. A wooden ladder was hitched to the side of it, currently drawn up to allow people to pass underneath.

In a wild fit of inspiration Ghazi flung her knife at the ladder. With precision she wasn't aware she possessed - or perhaps her panic was partly to blame - her knife connected with the rope keeping the ladder tethered in place, and it came crashing down to the stone below, hitting the thief squarely on his shoulders behind his neck. With a wail he was brought down, ladder and rope landing neatly on top of him.

Momentarily shocked that her outlandish maneuver had worked, Ghazi steeled herself and rushed over to the fallen thief, who was busy rubbing the back of his neck and groaning in pain.

"The ring you stole!" Ghazi barked at him, holding out her hand. "Give it back _right now_!"

The thief glowered, amber eyes sweeping up to meet hers in defiance. All at once his expression was wiped blank, eyes wide and mouth wider. Ghazi couldn't imagine why he looked so surprised, but firmly held her ground.

"A… girl…?" the young man murmured softly, and Ghazi felt panic rise in her throat. Her hand instinctively flew to the top of her head; there was nothing covering her. She looked around wildly only to find Hafa's keffiyeh on the ground several feet away. It looked as if it had slipped off when she'd been tripped and she hadn't even noticed.

"I… Uhh…." Before Ghazi could muster up anything helpful, she felt hands grab her shoulders firmly from behind, shoving her to her knees. She let out a startled yelp, trying to look back at whomever was holding her in place but her head was grabbed next, keeping her neck bent uncomfortably. From her position, all she could see was the thief, being forced into a similar stance by several men, some of them with swords dangling from their sides.

"A woman, and she is uncovered!" shouted someone from behind her, and Ghazi felt her blood run cold.

"She was fraternizing with this thieving vermin. I saw him milling around the shopping plaza earlier. He has stolen here before, I remember his face!" cried another, holding the thief's arms behind his back. The men's hands on her shoulders increased their grip, shoving her down so hard she was forced on her hands and knees. Her face burned in humiliation and anger. Both of those emotions evaporated when she heard someone behind her unsheathe their sword.

"A thief and a filthy blasphemer. There is only one fate for those who would bring so much sin to our village."

.

.

.

Hafa and Aini had found each other in the square, both of them having seen not a trace of the thief or Ghazi. They had been hoping to create a triangle of sorts and trap him somewhere in the middle, but obviously he'd gone a direction they hadn't been counting on.

"Should we go back? I'm worried, what if Ghazi found him before we did…?" Aini asked as they walked. Hafa purposely steered them up a row of steps instead of heading back to the square.

"We didn't check the upper district." he said, feeling a baseless concern begin to ferment in his belly.

Climbing two more sets of stairs, Hafa and Aini noticed something of a stir. There were people watching something with interest, and voices could be heard loudly from below a large stone archway that connected the homes above them. Hafa was reminded of the day he'd met Najiya, when the two of them fought through a crowd to see the city guards beating a pleading old man.

Feeling a nostalgic anxiety grow within him, Hafa quickly made his way through the gawking people, Aini close to his side. What they saw on the other side of the crowd caused both of their hearts to plummet. Ghazi was pinned to the ground by several men, one of them brandishing a sword over her head and speaking loud words that neither of the men cared to hear.

Without hesitation, Hafa pulled a sword concealed within his pants and rushed forward. His blade connected with the ring-leader's back, causing him to shout out in anguish and drop to the ground, his sword following suit. The men holding Ghazi turned in surprise, none of them having expected anything in the form of rebellion; Hafa and Aini quickly knocked them off her, all but one, who produced a knife in a panic and pressed it to Ghazi's throat.

"Drop your weapons!" the man ordered shrilly, and begrudgingly Hafa and Aini complied, tossing their blades to the ground. As soon as they were unarmed they were quickly flanked. The man holding Ghazi dragged her roughly to her feet.

"Blasphemers, all of them!" shouted the man furiously, spit flying. "Never has there been such disorder among us!"

"Excuse me, please," Aini suddenly spoke, gaining the attention of everyone around them. They all seemed to be shocked that he was speaking out after having been declared a heathen. "There's been a misunderstanding. You see, we're not from around here-"

"As if that is any excuse! In fact, that makes it even more deplorable! You come into our midst, thieving and sinning-"

"We haven't stolen _anything_!" Ghazi exclaimed angrily, and received a sudden slap in the face from the man restraining her, the sound of it resounding throughout the street. Hafa's expression darkened and he fought against his captor vigorously, two more men hurrying forward to hold him still. From behind them, the thief also struggled, shouting something angrily that was immediately muffled when his face was shoved into the ground.

"How _dare_ you speak while a man speaks!" the man barked.

"Then allow a man to speak on her behalf!" Aini pleaded, his voice clear and strong. "We are travelers from far away. The woman you disrespect is the sister of royalty, a _princess_ , and any harm done to her will incur the wrath of her entire kingdom!"

It was a brilliant bargain, but it was lost on them. The men laughed, and Ghazi was pulled around, her back pressed to the man's front, his blade prodding her pale throat. "A princess, you say? Perhaps in your kingdom, but here, she's just a woman, and her life is worth less than livestock in my eyes."

Hafa's eyes flicked to the thief. As the men securing him watched the spectacle, he was doing something with his hand. It was hard to see, but it looked as if his fingers were reaching for his necklace, the attached pendant lying on the ground near his shoulder. What was he trying to do…?

Hafa had his answer when the thief's fingers finally grasped the pendant. A sudden whooshing sound caused all eyes to look to the thief and his captors; it looked as if a raging cyclone had enveloped the thief, sending the surrounding men flying in several different directions. The wind howled and whipped wildly as if defending him, and Hafa felt several hands leave his arms and shoulders as people started to scream and flee the scene in terror. Ghazi took advantage of the confusion and pulled away from her captor, elbowing him in the stomach with all of her might, dropping him to his knees. Hissing in pain but still coherent, the man sought to grab her ankle as she made for Hafa and Aini.

As if it had emerged from the ground beneath them a tunnel of wind suddenly surrounded the three on all sides, knocking everyone and everything back. Hafa tried to speak but his voice was lost to the howling that encompassed them. A hand circled his wrist and he looked up to see the thief staring at him with a determinedly set gaze, mouthing words that were also drowned out by the vicious wind. In his other hand he held Ghazi's wrist firmly, and he motioned for Aini to grab on to someone. Hesitatingly, Aini complied, grabbing Hafa's arm.

Hafa realized what the thief had said to him just as they were all picked up off the ground, the wind around them screaming in their ears and flinging them skyward.

" _Hold on_."

.

.

.

"Najiya, be careful! That must be tremendously heavy!" Reem said worriedly as Najiya lifted a water-filled vase into their wooden cart. Najiya carefully set the vase down and exhaled a sigh.

"Reeeem, how many times have I told you that my arm is healing fine? I can handle this much, at least." Najiya replied with a grin. Reem frowned disapprovingly.

"Just because your arm is feeling better doesn't necessarily mean straining it is safe to do. The physician projected that your arm would be healed in six months. It's only been _five-_ "

" _But_ the physician _also_ said that I might heal faster than that, too. He took the bindings off, didn't he?" Najiya giggled at the scowl Reem was leveling him, responding by carefully stretching his arm over his head. "I promise I'm not straining myself, or doing anything I know I can't handle. You worry too much, Reem."

Reem sighed deeply and dunked another vase into the stream, pulling it out once it was full. "I worry because I can't stand seeing you hurt," he said seriously, setting the vase in the sand next to his feet. "If your arm doesn't heal properly and there was something I could have done or said to prevent it…"

Arms suddenly slithered around Reem's sides, surprising him. He turned to see Najiya clinging to him, looking up at him with a rosy face and a pleased smile.

"Thank you, Reem. I'm sorry for arguing. You're just trying to make sure I'm careful, right?"

Reem smiled apologetically. "Well… Maybe I am worrying a bit too much. It's your body, so I should trust you to know what your limits are."

"It's okay. Sometimes it doesn't hurt to have reminders." Najiya closed his eyes and stood on tiptoe, meeting Reem's mouth with his own. Reem easily dissolved into the kiss until his common sense kicked in, and he gently eased them apart, casting a look around.

" _Najiya_! It's broad daylight, and we're right outside the city!"

Najiya followed Reem's lead and looked around them, his expression deadpan. "I don't _seeee_ anyone..." His tone was mischievous and moreover _dangerous_ ; Reem had been the victim of that voice more times than he cared to count, but kissing outside of the city next to the most popular water source was something he couldn't possibly concede to, no matter how much he _wanted_ to.

Just as he was about to start his five-part explanation as to why smooching in public was a bad idea, Najiya noticed something over Reem's shoulder and frowned.

"Reem, what's that?"

Reem followed Najiya's gaze and turned, seeing a train of dark horses traveling their way over the sand. It was hard at this distance to make out the riders, but they didn't appear to be traveling with wares, and Reem could distinctly see the faint glimmer of steel reflected by the mid-day sun.

"I'm not sure," he answered as Najiya removed his hands from Reem, shielding his eyes from the sun to get a better look.

"Soldiers?"

"Maybe. But from where? What are they doing all the way out here?"

As if their conversation had been heard, the head of the procession pointed their way, and their direction shifted ever-so-slightly. Reem's heart lept to his throat.

"We're going back. We need to hurry, but we can't run or make any unnecessary movements."

"Reem….?"

"It's okay," Reem said with a reassuring smile. "Let's just load what we've got and head back."

Glancing worriedly back at the quickly advancing train, Najiya nodded and helped to grab the rest of the water-filled vases and load them into the cart. Reem attached their horse to the cart and began leading it back. He felt as if needles were prickling his back and shoulders as they walked, and he couldn't say he was surprised when he heard a commanding voice call out to them from behind.

"You there! Stop!"

Reem came to a halt and gently pulled the horse's head harness to stop the animal. "... _Shit_."

"Reem? What do we do…?" Najiya's voice was hushed and frightened. He'd never had a reason to trust authoritative figures or men who carried swords, especially after all that had transpired several months ago. Now that they were clearly being accosted, his fear intensified ten-fold.

Reem turned toward the advancing company, stepping in front of Najiya. He grabbed Najiya's hand behind his back and the blonde pressed against Reem's back, breathing deeply.

"Just let me do all the talking. Everything's fine." Reem assured in a low voice.

It was several moments before they found themselves surrounded by men on steeds. The gesture was meant to be intimidating even though none of their weapons were drawn. Despite this, Reem greeted the unfriendly entourage with a smile.

"What can we do for you?" he asked them kindly. A man atop a horse moved through the circle and stopped in front of Reem. His armor was slightly altered from the rest, indicating that he was a higher rank, possibly a general or advisor. His light-colored hair was cut short and on the right side of his skull he had a large, star-shaped scar, speaking volumes of his experience in battle.

"Do you live in the city?" the man asked. Reem saw no reason at this point to lie about anything.

"Yes, sir."

"Who governs the city?" came the man's next question. Reem wasn't sure how to answer. It was so much more complicated than he was likely expecting.

"Uhh…"

"You have a leader here, yes?" the man barked impatiently, "We request an audience with him. Go and tell him that Sultan Akram Ibn-Zafir, ruler of the Kingdom Sama Al-Kah wishes to speak with him on urgent business."

Reem knew well the motions of war and battle, and already he was feeling uncomfortable. The city was in no fit state to receive such visitors, but he knew that lying would do them no good. As things were, he could only try and get as much information out of the conversation as he could and pray he and Najiya weren't detained or killed.

"The city governs itself, sir," Reem answered. "As it turns out, we've found no reason to need a ruler. So I'm afraid if you'd like to speak to someone in charge, you'll have to arrange a meeting with the citizens."

Reem's words immediately sparked murmuring among the ranks. Behind him, Reem could feel Najiya's grip on his vest intensify as the tension rose.

Another rider moved into view, the soldiers wordlessly making a path for him as if they were being pushed aside by an unseen force. The man was older than the general and had dark red hair that was mostly hidden under an impressive turban. His horse had an elaborate umbrella attached to the saddle, and the man's robes and jewelry were of the finest quality. Reem could feel his nose curl. He disliked the Sultan on sight, but kept his expression as cool as he could manage.

"Thank you, Gohar," the Sultan said, and the general nodded and allowed the Sultan to pass him. The man halted his steed two feet from where Reem and Najiya stood, looking down at them with a smile.

"Do you speak the truth?" Akram asked them patiently. "There is no one to govern this city of yours? How do you all manage?"

"With all due respect, we're doing better now than we have in some time. Everyone helps each other, and because of this, we're prospering more than we ever could have before."

The Sultan's eyes trailed upward in thought, and he nodded to himself as if he'd just heard something thought-provoking. "I see. Well, that makes matters complicated."

"If you'll forgive my asking, what business did you have in the city? Perhaps I may be able to help." Reem said.

The general, Gohar, moved forward reflexively. "That is none of your concern."

Reem fell immediately silent. He was pushing their luck as it was. He hoped that whatever the men had just learned had at least stalled them long enough for he and Najiya to be able to return to the city and warn everyone.

"You've been rather quiet, haven't you?" the Sultan said, and for the smallest of moments Reem was incredibly confused until he realized that the man's eyes were trained behind him, on Najiya. The pit of Reem's stomach twisted restlessly; he found the Sultan's gaze to be particularly offensive. Something about the way he was looking at Najiya set his blood boiling.

"I apologize," Najiya said, his voice lacking its usual zest.

The Sultan smiled at Najiya warmly. Reem wanted to hit him. "Silence is nothing to apologize for. Sometimes it's best not to speak unless you are spoken to, yes?"

"Y-yes," Najiya replied.

Akram tilted his head to better view Najiya, and Najiya averted his eyes. "Why so shy, little sow-thistle?" he asked, "I certainly didn't mean to frighten you."

Reem felt anger bubble violently in his stomach. The Sultan continued. "Your hair strikes me. Like gold or the shining sun. And your skin is so pale… Simply put, you look incredibly exotic. Surely I'm not the first to have made mention."

"Ahh…" Najiya swallowed his unease, opening his mouth to begrudgingly thank the man before Reem boldly interrupted, voice spiked with fury.

"Such an observation might be considered _rude_ by some," he said curtly, and no sooner had the words left his mouth did Gohar draw his sword and point it at Reem.

"You'll do well to keep in mind that you are addressing the _Sultan Akram Ibn-Zafir_. You will speak with respect." Akram raised a hand, prompting Gohar to lower his aim.

"He's quite right, I was being far too forward," the Sultan said, flashing an apologetic smile at Reem and Najiya. "There are other matters to attend to, anyway. We've come a long way and are in need of rest. We wouldn't dream of imposing on your people, so for now I hope you'll all excuse us if he set up camp outside your walls."

Unsure if the Sultan desired a response or not, Reem settled on a decidedly heated expression, but it didn't seem to phase the man in the least. He turned to his general, nodded to him, and Gohar shouted orders to the ranks. In a flurry of hooves and sand, the company dispersed, forming another train and galloping to the north.

Najiya let out a tremendous sigh and Reem felt him slump against his back. "What was all of that about?!" he cried as Reem turned around to face him.

"I don't know. Are you alright, though?" Reem asked worriedly. He knew that neither of them had been touched, but watching the Sultan stare at Najiya with such undetermined intentions felt almost like watching Najiya be manhandled.

Najiya sputtered a laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine. That guy was creepy, wasn't he? And he called me _sow-thistle_ …" He pulled a disgusted face.

Reem brushed some golden strands away from Najiya's face. "Because of your hair color, I'd wager. I supposed I'd never thought of it, but your hair is the very same color." He sighed and pulled Najiya to him in a one-armed hug. "Honestly, I couldn't stand hearing him speak to you. That man has something planned. I'm not sure why he's here, but I'm positive he's _not_ here on a mission of peace."

He released Najiya and glanced back north, where he could see them still, looking as if they were preparing to set up a camp site. Najiya frowned in their direction.

"They left us alive though, right?" he said hopefully. "If they were planning something terrible, don't you think they would have tried to kill us so we couldn't warn anyone?"

Reem removed his eye glasses and carefully wiped them on his vest; at some point they had been dusted with sand. "Not necessarily. It may just mean that they aren't worried about us telling anyone, and that might be far worse." He replaced his glasses and shook his head. "Let's head back. I don't want to start a mass panic, but people need to be aware of what's going on. I think we should talk to Makarim first, and see what he thinks we should do next."

Najiya nodded resolutely, grabbing their horse's harness and gently spurring it into motion.

.

.

.

The breeze was hot but subdued. Hafa's throat was dry. Upon opening his eyes, he was immediately reminded of the countless times he'd woken like this in the desert, alive but just as thirsty as before he'd perished. For a sick moment he forgot that those days were far behind him, but his most recent memories flooded back and he struggled to sit up, his head spinning.

His surroundings looked familiar. They had passed this way when heading toward the village the day before. Even now he could just make out the village on the horizon, and when he turned his head he could see the mysterious palace looming closer than before. From this distance he could make out small spires rising from the structure, battered with age.

Hafa attempted to call out for his companions and immediately regretted it. His throat was not only dry but irritated with sand. Erupting into a coughing fit, Hafa spat several times, trying to rid himself of the irritants. He must have swallowed some sand in the bizarre cyclone or when he'd landed.

"H-Hafa!" Aini's voice piped up from behind him, and Hafa glanced back once he'd stopped coughing. Aini was struggling to stand, brushing himself off with a groan.

"Ghazi…?" Hafa gasped, looking around. His eyes quickly fell on her, half-buried in sand, her face thankfully unobstructed, breathing softly. Aini saw her at the exact same moment and hurried to her, gently attempting to wake her up.

The last person unaccounted for was quickly spotted, groaning and rubbing the back of his head. With no regard to his own possible injuries, Hafa stood up and swiftly approached the thief.

"What did you do?" Hafa demanded hotly, his voice raspy from his earlier episode. "What _was_ all of that?"

The thief opened his eyes and shot a glare at Hafa, still rubbing his head. "What do you _mean_ , 'what did I do'?" he snapped. "I saved you all! I've never even taken other people with me before, so be grateful you're alive!"

"The ring," Hafa reached out his hand expectantly, eyes blazing. "Give it back."

The young man cast his eyes away, frowning. "I must have lost it during the trip, I don't have it anymore." he mumbled. "You're _welcome_ , by the way!" he added crossly.

Icy cold shock jolted through Hafa's body, and for a moment he distinctly felt like he couldn't breathe. A second later Ghazi's voice tore through the silence like lightning before the thunder.

"For your sake, _you had better be lying_!" she roared. She was already on her feet, Aini helping her to maintain her balance. "That ring is important to us! If you have it, you _will_ give it back!"

The thief stared at Ghazi in surprise for several moments before sighing in irritation and slipping his hand in his vest pocket, pulling the ring out and extending it to Hafa. Disbelievingly, Hafa took it, inspecting it closely. Sure enough, it was the Seal of Solomon. Hafa breathed an enormous sigh of relief. He mentally reprimanded himself for giving up hope so easily.

"It doesn't even look like it's worth that much anyway," the thief muttered, looking particularly chastised. "Aside from that one little gem, it looks like a piece of junk."

"It doesn't matter, it isn't yours in the first place," Aini pointed out, helping to brush some sand from Ghazi's hair.

Hafa carefully slipped the ring back onto his middle finger, and then turned his gaze to the oval gold pendant hanging from the thief's neck. It glinted prettily in the sunlight. In its center was a small orange jewel, the same size and shape as the Jewel of Water in Solomon's ring. Hafa recounted what Maha had told him some time ago, when he and Makarim had found themselves in Solomon's tomb. The ring originally had four jewels set in it, plucked out and scattered by Solomon; jewels that controlled the elements of animal, spirit, wind and water.

"How did you save us before?" Hafa asked, pulling his eyes away from the pendant. "That was you controlling the wind, right?"

"I don't have to tell you anything!" the thief responded immediately, his expression pulling into a pout.

"Thank you for saving us," Ghazi put in, kneeling down close to the orange-haired thief. Contrasting her earlier outrage, now she wore a kind smile. "And for returning the ring, too. I don't think a bad person would have done those things."

Staring at Ghazi with a slackened jaw and rose-dusted cheeks, the thief coughed into his hand, looking away from her. "Well, it was kinda my fault all of that happened... I'm not heartless, or anything..."

"How did you do that trick with the wind? It was amazing!" Ghazi continued, and Hafa and Aini exchanged a puzzled glance. It was impossible to tell if she was being sincere or if she was using some brand of mystical feminine charm to get him to open up, but either way, it appeared to be working.

"I... Can't really explain it," the thief crossed his arms, deliberately covering his pendant.

"It's that gem in your pendant, isn't it?" Hafa asked dryly. The thief shot Hafa a surprised look, and Ghazi and Aini followed suit when they realized Hafa has struck on something. "I saw you grab it right before everything went crazy."

A short silence followed. The thief gripped the pendant in his hand, and for a moment, Hafa feared he would summon the wind again and whisk himself away. However, everything remained still, and the thief sighed.

"Yeah. The gem controls wind, or something like that. It's been in my family since forever. It's useful when you want to make a quick getaway." His eyes flashed upward, regarding Hafa with a fiery expression. "But stealing it from me won't do you any good, only I can use it!"

"We're not stealing anything from anyone," Aini said wearily. "Even if we wanted to, it's not like we even have swords to threaten you with. We dropped them back in town."

"Ahh, that's right! And Hafa, I dropped your keffiyeh…" Ghazi said in a deeply apologetic tone. Hafa shook his head.

"Doesn't matter."

"I think the bigger problem is that our animals and our supplies and equipment are back there, as well. There's no way we can go back and get them now." Aini pointed out uneasily.

"Miss Maha can grab our stuff for us when she gets back." Hafa said, sitting back down on the sand. After everything had calmed down and the ring was safely back in his possession, he felt exhaustion overtake him.

"I don't know who your friend is, but I don't think they'll take kindly to another stranger coming in and taking a bunch of stuff from under their noses," the thief drawled, resting his chin in his hand, his legs crossed.

Ghazi smiled. "Don't worry about that. Anyway, I'm Ghazwa, and this is Haru and Aini. We were just passing through when you bumped into us."

The thief laughed, a bit awkwardly. "Sorry for 'bumping'." He sighed deeply. "I'm Mumyi al Din. Just Mumyi is fine, though."

Collectively, Hafa, Ghazi and Aini exchanged a meaningful look. Mumyi must have noticed, because when they looked back at him his lips were drawn into a confused frown.

"Sorry for asking such a weird question," Aini started hesitatingly, "but… Are you related to a Siraj al Din, by any chance?"

The look on Mumyi's face could only be described as utterly dumbfounded. The color seemed to drain from his face altogether and his eyes were blown wide, leaving him looking as if he'd just witnessed the rising of the dead. His mouth opened and he tried to speak, but only a hoarse whisper emerged. Hafa strained to listen.

"...You know about my brother…?"

"Your _brother_!" Ghazi gasped. "Have you seen him recently? We've been searching for word of him for _months_!"

Mumyi turned his stricken expression to Ghazi, his brow knotting in disbelief. "He's… _alive_?" came his next question, and all three were thrown into a horrified silence. For several moments, no one quite knew what to say. There were so many questions that needed to be asked, but all they could concern themselves with was the look of incredulous disbelief in Mumyi's eyes.

Hafa's eyes caught movement down the slope, coming from the direction of the village. He stood up and shielded his eyes against the sun, trying to make out the figures that appeared to be coming their way.

"Who is it? Are they coming after us?" Aini asked in sudden concern, following Hafa's gaze.

"I can't tell," Hafa admitted. It didn't look like a large group; in fact, the closer it got, the smaller it seemed.

Mumyi stood up, his fingers closed around his pendant. His expression was hard to discern. "If they're coming, I can take us somewhere else." he offered softly. Hafa glanced back at the approaching party, finally seeing a figure. Only one figure, in fact. Now that they were close enough, Hafa recognized his own camel and the two steeds belonging to Aini and Ghazi. The figure was waving at them, leading the animals.

"It's Akilah!" Ghazi suddenly exclaimed, running to meet her. Mumyi released his hold on his pendant, arm swinging limply at his side.

Hafa looked at Aini questioningly. In reply, Aini's lips formed a thin smile. "Go and check in with Akilah, I'll stay with Mumyi... ...maybe answer some questions he might have..." he said gently. Mumyi barely budged, his eyes trained on the ground. Hafa nodded and followed after Ghazi.

.

.

.

The day was at its absolute hottest as Akilah explained how she'd come to possess their animals and supplies, and even more importantly, how she managed to sneak away with the aforementioned things without being stopped. She'd seen the damage done by Mumyi's pendant after she'd heard the commotion from across town, and spoke to some who had seen the event transpire. She knew immediately the visitors they spoke of. So much of the town was in a panic over the insane display that Akilah decided to take advantage of the confusion and slip out with their things to try and find them. She hadn't witnessed their aerial exit, however, so fortunately for everyone involved they hadn't landed too far from town.

"That's still a big risk, coming out here for us. If anyone finds out…" Ghazi started worriedly.

Akilah smiled and shook her head. "You were all so kind to me yesterday, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't return the favor. They were calling you dangerous heathens… I knew that couldn't be right." Her eyes drew downward sadly. "I'm sorry… I couldn't find your other camel. Someone may have already stolen it."

"Other camel…?" Ghazi asked in confusion.

"That wasn't really a camel, so don't worry about it." Hafa said offhandedly, and to his right Ghazi made a soft 'oh!' noise of realization.

Hafa glanced back up the slope to see Aini and Mumyi still talking. Mumyi looked somewhat more composed; he almost looked vexed now, his mouth opening to talk only every now and then. As the girls chatted, Hafa looked back at the sky to try and gauge the time. According to the sun, it had been several hours since he'd heard from Maha. He'd asked her to scope out the palace, a rather unobtrusive task, not to mention exceedingly simple. She had already expressed her dislike of places associated with Solomon, so Hafa assumed she would be back quickly. Why was it taking so long?

"I'm worried about Miss Maha," Hafa said suddenly, causing both girls to fall silent.

"Worried…?" Ghazi asked, her voice low in an attempt to be subtle, but it only ended up sounding more suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"She's been gone for hours. What I asked of her shouldn't be taking so long."

Ghazi thought about it, nibbling on the tip of her thumb. "I guess not… She might be doing other things, though. I mean, she's a-" Ghazi stopped herself, Akilah blinking at them with wide, confused eyes, "-ahh, you know. She can do whatever she wants, so maybe she's just taking a break?"

"She's never done anything like that before. She's honest. If she was going to go somewhere she would have told us." Hafa was surprised at his own faith in Maha, but over the last several months the jann had never once given him a reason to distrust her. He recalled enough about being a djinn to remember how often they could lie and manipulate, but Maha wasn't like that. Even after her lengthy imprisonment, she'd been loyal to them and helped when she could.

"I suppose that's true… And besides, we told her we'd be in town, and we've had a slight change of plans..."

"Is this another friend of yours?" Akilah asked curiously. Ghazi smiled and nodded.

Hafa eyed the ring on his finger. He hated to do it, but it was the easiest way to find out where she was. He glanced behind them at the palace, far off in the distance. She was supposed to be somewhere over there. He knew they could travel that way and try and meet up with her, but Hafa had a bad feeling about that. He'd asked Maha to investigate it in the first place because he'd felt uneasy when passing by. The dread he felt when looking at the palace was still present, overpowering him the longer he stared.

"I'm going to call her with the ring," Hafa said decisively, adjusting it on his finger.

Ghazi tilted her head. "Can you even do something like that?"

"I'm not going to summon her or bind her or anything like that. It'll just be a simple call that should guide her to where we are. Under normal circumstances that would be a really bad idea, but we know she isn't hostile so it should be fine." he said stoically.

The sound of two pairs of feet sliding down the slope behind them gained Hafa's attention, and both Aini and Mumyi walked over to the small group. Mumyi looked exhausted but calmer, though he was avoiding everyone's eyes. Aini smiled brightly at Akilah.

"Sorry I'm late to thank you, but thank you so much for bringing our rides and our things! You're a life saver!"

"Aini," Ghazi placed a hand on Aini's shoulder, stopping their back and forth before it could begin, "Hafa is going to try calling Maha back. She's been gone for hours now, so…."

"I was wondering about that," Aini remarked. "It's been an awfully long time, it's unlike her."

"I'll be right back, then," Hafa said, starting up the slope. "I'll just be on the other side."

As he went, he heard Akilah ask confusedly where he was going, but he was unable to hear Ghazi's reply. Honestly, he didn't care too much if the other two met Maha. He couldn't think of a reason why either of them would be anything but surprised, and it wasn't as if djinn were completely unheard of in this part of the world. Although humans didn't often get to see them, it was more or less believed that they existed, and they were blamed for a plethora of misfortunes in the human world, whether they were responsible for them or not.

Still, out of consideration for Maha, Hafa stopped on the other side of the slope. If she wanted to meet their new friends, he supposed it would be up to her.

Hafa concentrated on what he wanted to happen. He pictured Maha in his mind and out loud he requested that she come forward. He felt the ring grow warm on his finger, but nothing appeared to be happening. He tried again, wording things a little differently, but still nothing. Although the Seal was warm enough to risk burning him, Maha didn't appear. Hafa's concern grew. The ring was doing its job, it was working. If Maha wasn't returning, then…

Climbing up the slope as quickly as possible, Hafa reached the top and braced his hands on his knees, out of breath. The company below noticed him immediately.

"Hafa, where is she?" Aini asked, suddenly worried.

Hafa took a moment to gain his breath back; he was still tired from their earlier scuffle and getaway flight and he'd just spent far too much energy sprinting up the slope.

"Something's wrong," he finally managed to get out. "It won't work. I can't call for her."

Both Ghazi and Aini looked up at Hafa with wide eyes. "What does that mean, exactly?" Ghazi asked.

"Wherever she is, I can't reach her without her true name. Which means she's probably in the Other World."

"What are you all talking about?" Mumyi asked in authentic confusion. He went momentarily ignored.

Ghazi frowned. "Why would she be there all of a sudden?"

"Something might have injured her. Djinn can't heal on the mortal plane, they have to go back to their realm to recover their essence." Hafa sucked in a deep breath, and carefully started sliding down the slope to meet the others to decide what to do. As he slid, he realized that everyone had begun speaking all at once, their eyes trained on the sky. He planted his feet firmly, stopping his descent. Mumyi had fallen backwards in shock, and Akilah was hiding behind Ghazi.

Before Hafa could turn around, he was grabbed roughly by his shoulders and lifted into the air so suddenly that his vision swam and his stomach tightened into a sickening ball. Far below, his companions were yelling for him, but their cries were drowned out by the beating of massive wings from above. In no time at all, Hafa was flying high in the sky, wind howling in his ears for the second time that day. The strong talons that held him were digging into his shoulders, carrying him as a bird of prey would carry its small furry victim. It was hard to breathe. Hafa managed to turn his head and see a second massive bird - an eagle, it seemed - flying alongside the first.

They were flying so fast Hafa almost couldn't take a breath. Raising his arms was difficult with the eagle's long talon's holding him in place, but as he squinted ahead, trying to make out their destination, he realized they weren't far off.

The palace without an entrance was rapidly coming into view. Hafa lost consciousness as soon as the eagles began their downward descent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for the delay. Oh gosh.
> 
> Some stuff happened that sort of killed my desire to write. I didn’t write for weeks and when I finally started writing again, I was sticking to non-consequential shorter pieces to get my creative juices flowing again. I came down with pneumonia recently, and I'm not sure how but being sick brought it all back and I was suddenly writing like a mad person.
> 
> Sousuke's in the next chapter! (And oh yeah and the general guy was indeed Coach Sasabe, heh) I'm really excited because I've had this particular scene in my head before I even figured out the plot and everything. 
> 
> r.i.p. Hafa’s keffiyeh. You were good at stuff. Like keeping sand out of Hafa’s face and other homely uses. We’ll miss you little buddy. #neverforgetkeffiyeh2014


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hafa meets an old friend of Rim's, Makarim finds he can't sit idly by anymore, and Hafa discovers the true nature of the curse.

Hafa woke lying on cold stone.

The strangeness of his surroundings hit him just before the headache. Hafa groaned, his head pounding, his stomach wound up in knots as if he were still flying through the air. He felt terrible. Despite the urgency of the situation, he found that he couldn't move for several moments for the splitting pain in his head.

He could hear echoing voices speaking quietly some distance away, how many he wasn't sure, but it prompted him to pull himself together and focus. With a grunt of discomfort Hafa pulled himself up, his head spinning. His eyes hurriedly tried to adjust to his surroundings, but everything was already so dark it was a tedious effort. The voices ceased, and decisive footsteps sounded from the other end of the chilly hall. Hafa's flight instinct was buzzing, but he was too disoriented to act on it.

Hafa tried to stand up and immediately his knees gave out. The spontaneous flight earlier had his legs feeling shaky, and his body was already fatigued from Mumyi's whirlwind escape from the village.

The footsteps stopped just in front of him, and the end of a long, wooden object tapped the floor. Hafa's eyes locked on it curiously, trailing up the length of it. It appeared to be a staff, worn and curved at the top but incredibly ordinary. Hafa's eyes flicked to the owner of the staff, and through the darkness he could just make out dark robes and fierce sea-green eyes that were staring at him as if he were a bug to be crushed. His hair was short, dark and unruly. The two of them regarded each other in silence, trying to assess each other with nothing but eye-contact.

"Get up," the man finally said, startling Hafa from his thoughts. Hafa glared at him.

"Where am I? Why am I here?"

"Get _up_ ," the man repeated, this time extending a hand to Hafa. The gesture went unappreciated. Hafa managed to maintain enough dignity to slap the man's hand away before rising unsteadily to his feet. He found his bearings and took a step back, eyes defensively locked on the stranger.

"Where are my companions?" Hafa asked.

The man leveled him a bored look. "I couldn't care less. I was only interested in you." He lowered his head, staring at Hafa dubiously, as if trying to ascertain something from his appearance. "You're called Hafa, yes? Or do you go by Haru now?"

Hafa remained silent. Neither confirming nor denying seemed like good choices of action. His mind was buzzing madly.

"What do you want with me?" Hafa finally said, his right hand balled into a fist, pressed against his side. The man's gaze flicked to Hafa's hand, and Hafa could practically feel his intense teal eyes seeking out the Seal of Solomon. In a moment, the man had turned away, taking several steps away from Hafa.

"I'm not interested in the ring, not anymore. Don't worry yourself about that." He glanced back at Hafa only once, and then began walking away, footsteps echoing all around them. "Come with me."

Hafa stared at the man's retreating back for several seconds in a confused silence, unsure of what to do. He had no idea where he was, and the stranger was giving him no answers. Before he'd passed out, he'd seen them heading toward the palace. Was he inside of it somehow? It supposedly had no entrance, so how had he come to be here? Were the eagles responsible for that? Had those even been eagles? Hafa's uncertainty grew by the second, and carefully, Hafa slipped his fingers into his harem pants, seeking out the small dagger he kept strapped to his leg.

Just as his fingers touched the metal of the blade, two figures morphed from the shadows on either side of the hall, eyes glowing, forms approaching Hafa rapidly. Hafa took a surprised step back, his heart jumping to his throat.

A loud _clang_ sounded through the hall as the man struck his staff against the smooth floor. Both of the figures froze in place, their forms now visible. The guise they chose was human, but Hafa knew they were not. The color of their hair was familiar. Hafa remembered seeing that same tawny brown on the feathers of the giant eagle flying aside the one that had abducted him, and the huge wings beating over his head were the same dark color as the other man standing very near to him.

The tawny-haired man tossed a questioning look behind him at the man with the staff. "He was about to-"

"I'm aware. And I'm sure by now he realizes that using a weapon of any kind is not the best idea." the stranger replied coolly. "Both of you, leave us. I'm not in any danger."

The dark-haired man rolled his hooded eyes and clicked his tongue. " _Always_ with the _orders_. Don't blame us when he tries something stupid."

Both of them melded back into the shadows, gone as quickly as they'd come. Hafa willed his nerves to settle.

"Come along, or you'll get lost in here. We have a lot to talk about." the man commanded, and Hafa felt the strangest mixture of anger and fear. Reluctantly, Hafa followed him, his own footsteps matching the strangers and ringing through the long, dark stone hall.

They walked for some time in silence. Hafa merely followed the man, careful not to let his gaze wander too freely lest he let his guard down. It was difficult to avoid looking at everything. As he was led through several corridors and rooms, he never remembered seeing such beautiful, mysterious things.

He was more convinced than ever that he was inside of the palace. Once they'd left the cold, dark hall, the place seemed to take on new life. The ceilings were tall and beautifully carved, aged paintings covering the majority of them depicting ancient battles that looked as if they took place long before Hafa's time. Ornaments, tapestries and weapons littered the colorfully painted walls, all of them adding their own flavor and history. The rooms and halls were lit by small floating balls of ethereal light, which the stranger seemed to have some control over. Whenever they entered a dark room, a tap of the man's staff on the floor would spur them to life, illuminating everything. As soon as they had navigated away, the lights would obediently fizzle out.

No matter where they walked, there were no windows or doors. Hafa noticed this above all else. Rim's palace had felt so arrogantly open, so falsely freeing; even Rim's throne room was open to the sand dunes with no worry of intruders or thieves. By contrast, Hafa felt like he was trapped inside of a clam shell. The structure felt so tightly enclosed he thought he might go mad if he were forced to stay, despite how beautifully decorated the interior was. It seemed designed to keep people out. Hafa couldn't understand it. Why build a palace just to ensure no one could enter?

"Where exactly are we going?" Hafa finally asked as they passed by a massive tapestry depicting a royal hunting expedition. The man neither stopped nor turned around.

"Just follow me and be silent." he said as one might address an impatient child. Hafa's ears flushed in anger. Still, he obeyed. He still didn't know where he was, and there was no way out that he could see. His best option was to listen to the stranger, despite the frustration of the notion.

They passed through several more room and halls, the palace's layout becoming a twisted labyrinth of color and light in Hafa's mind. There was no way he could navigate this place by himself. He marveled that anyone could find their way through, but the taller man walked briskly and without hesitation. Hafa was managing to keep up, but his head and body were still sore from the chaos of the day and it was difficult to will his legs to move as quickly.

As they walked down a long hall lit with the mysterious glowing spheres, Hafa stopped. On his right there was a huge, open oval doorway leading to a room overburdened with books. Large dark wood bookcases lined the room, stretching all the way to the ceiling, every one of them packed tightly with tomes of all sizes and girths. Hafa had never seen so many books together in one place. Books were rare, and written language was rarer. Hafa could neither read nor write, having no need for it in his djinn form. Makarim had offered to teach him, but Hafa had left the city shortly after.

The stranger had stopped when Hafa had, and Hafa expected the man to bark at him to continue walking. Instead, the man sighed.

"It's not the Library of Alexandria," the man said, "but it suits my needs. Some of the books in there are older than the palace itself."

"Have you read all of them?" Hafa asked, his tone deliberately unchanged. He didn't want the man to hear how impressed he was.

"Yes. Some of them several times." the man turned again, robes fluttering. "Come. We're almost there."

This time, Hafa didn't move. "I'm tired of walking. Tell me who you are, and tell me why I'm here."

The man heaved another sigh. "You're really a pain, you know." Tension filled the space between them, and there was silence for several seconds until finally the man turned to face Hafa, his expression blasé. "My name is Sa'akah. As for why you're here, that's a little more complicated and would be answered a lot more easily if you'd just do as you're told."

"I asked a djinn friend of mine to inspect the palace this morning, but she never came back. Are you responsible for that, too? Where is she?"

Sa'akah raised a brow. "I wasn't aware she was a friend of yours. Anyone who pokes around the palace gets either killed or carried off, so I couldn't tell you what's become of her."

Hafa's blood ran chilly. He felt terrible for asking Maha to come anywhere near the palace, and the guilt quickly surfaced as anger. "How can you blindly attack people just for coming near the palace? She hadn't done _anything wrong_ -"

"Stop making idiotic assumptions. I didn't attack anyone. I don't control what those two do, and they've been here much longer than I have. They protect the palace, and it's no business of mine how they choose to protect it." Sa'akah said, frowning.

"Relinquishing responsibility to someone else is just as bad as doing it yourself," Hafa growled. "It's cowardly."

Sa'akah sighed, turning his back to Hafa. "Think what you want. I'm not here to convince you that I'm a good person. If you don't want to follow me, fine. You're free to leave, if you can find your way out." He continued walking, staff loosely gripped in one hand.

Now that dialogue had been exchanged, Hafa had so many questions spinning in his mind he couldn't even consider trying to escape. He briskly followed Sa'akah's back, feeling livid.

"How do you know my name?" Hafa asked sharply, his voice bouncing off of the marble walls.

"I've known about you for a long time." Sa'akah answered easily. "Though I was a bit surprised to hear you'd changed your name to something so strange. I suppose a new name would better suit a new body, however."

Hafa inwardly shivered at the way Sa'akah spoke of him, as if they were old friends. "How do you know all of that?" Hafa demanded angrily. Only a handful of people knew of his unorthodox journey from djinn to human, and he couldn't imagine any of them telling a stranger so freely.

"It isn't important."

"It is to me." Hafa replied, irritated at Sa'akah's refusal to straightforwardly answer any of his questions. "And you still haven't told me why you brought me here."

Sa'akah turned a corner and they entered a large chamber that was sparsely decorated with ancient marble statues. He tapped his staff against the ground again and more of the lights illuminated their way. Sa'akah slowed his pace, nearly causing Hafa to run into him.

"I brought you here so that the others might have a chance at finding Rim." he said. Hafa's feet stopped moving, and he felt vaguely as if he'd just been slapped in the face. Hearing Rim's name was more surprising than being picked up off the sands by giant eagles. "We're nearly there. There's something I need to show you, and then I'll answer your questions."

Hafa stared at Sa'akah's retreating back for a time before unsteadily resuming his pace, his shock melting away to leave only confusion and a strange bitterness in its wake.

.

.

.

When she'd first seen the massive birds from above, she never would have expected them to know exactly where to attack a djinn to bring it down. What's more, she had taken the form of an even larger bird in order to scare them off, but they appeared to see right through it. She wasn't a particularly strong djinn. One hit was all it took to tear her corporal body to pieces.

Maha retreated to the Other World, the direct hit to her essence causing her consciousness to ripple. She needed time to reform, but given the state of things, she was unsure how long it would take.

It wasn't clear how long she's been sleeping before she'd heard Hafa's voice. It was faint and far away, with no pull behind it what-so-ever, which made her wonder how his voice managed to reach her in the first place. It must have been the ring.

Maha gathered her essence together, trying to evaluate the damage. She was healing, albeit slowly. Leaving the Other World at this point wasn't the greatest idea, but if Hafa was calling for her, he was either worried or in trouble. She felt she at least had enough strength to spirit them away from danger if needed, though she was positive she would need at least a few more hours to heal before she could put together a functioning physical body.

Maha tried to focus on the voice and pin-point where it was coming from. It was a tedious effort, but finally she managed to latch onto the voice and will herself in its direction.

Entering the mortal plane was much like pushing herself through a tunnel littered with shards of glass. It took her several moments to collect herself enough to survey her surroundings, hoping she hadn't arrived at the wrong location. The weight of the human world tugged down her essence relentlessly, making it difficult to focus on the figures that were quickly approaching her.

"M-Miss Maha?!"

Maha focused her sight on the crimson-haired female that had run to meet her. Despite the unforgiving heat of day, Ghazi's face looked sheet-white. Other figures emerged from behind the girl; Aini, naturally, and two unfamiliar humans. Maha vaguely recognized the girl from yesterday, but she was in too much pain to care.

"What _happened_ to you?" Aini asked, his eyes wide in alarm. Maha hadn't had the time to take a gander at herself, but she supposed she looked rather horrid. It was difficult to hold together any semblance of a form, so at present her essence was flayed and drooping, a blob with a faint color emanating from the edges.

"I was attacked," Maha said, though she felt at this point that was rather obvious. "I'll need some time to heal."

"Haru was right," Aini said, his voice quiet. He glanced to her in concern. "Will you be okay?"

"It isn't life-threatening, as long as I don't push it." The blob of essence scanned the sand around them curiously. "Where's Hafa? I only came because I heard him calling for me, and I got worried that maybe you all had gone and done something stupid."

Ghazi almost looked as if she could cry. "Hafa was taken!" she exclaimed desperately. "These giant eagles came out of no where and picked him up!"

Maha's essence throbbed from the memory. "Those weren't eagles. They're the ones that attacked me, they were guarding the palace. I think they're ghuls."

"Ghuls?" the girl behind Ghazi whispered fearfully. The orange-haired stranger seemed to be stuck in a dumb silence.

"We weren't anywhere _near_ the palace!" Aini reasoned. "They just swooped down and took Haru. _Only_ Haru."

"It looked like they were taking him to the palace. Miss Maha, what do we do?" Ghazi asked tearfully.

Maha couldn't possibly answer in a way that would satisfy anyone. She had no idea why ghuls disguised as eagles would take an interest in Hafa. It couldn't be for the ring he wore; djinn feared the ring above all else and would avoid its bearer without question. Ghul weren't especially strong djinn, they tended to use wit and trickery to earn their supper. They would be no match against the Seal of Solomon… So, why?

"Hafa was still wearing the Seal, right?" Maha asked calmly. Both Ghazi and Aini nodded. Maha heaved a deep sigh of relief, which ended up making her essence look like even more of a scrambled mess. "He has the best chance out of all of us, then. He can easily tame a couple of ghul if he still has the ring."

"They _flew off_ with him, though! What if they dropped him!" Ghazi exclaimed, clearly not convinced.

"If he can control them, he could prevent them from doing that," Maha reasoned, although inwardly she was just as worried as Ghazi was. She didn't believe that ghuls would risk so much without some kind of a goal in mind, and she was equally unsure of Hafa's ability to make on-the-spot decisions in such a position. As Ghazi opened her mouth to object again, Maha quickly cut her off. "I don't know what's going on either, but I'd feel a lot better if the rest of you were far away from here. I have enough strength to get you back to the city, and once I've healed up a bit more, I'll come back and see about Hafa."

"I'm not leaving without him!" Ghazi cried, shaking her head. "He wouldn't leave without us!"

"You don't have much of a choice in this case," Maha said apologetically. "There's nothing any of you can do."

Ghazi fell silent. Aini stood, chewing on his bottom lip. The orange-haired fellow - who happened to look a lot like Siraj al Din at second glance - finally spoke up.

"I'm not really sure what the hell is going on, but… If I can help somehow, I don't mind giving it a try." As he spoke, he fondled the pendant hanging over his chest.

Ghazi glanced at him with a small smile. She shook her head. "No… She's right. Hafa can take care of himself better than we can. Maybe it would be best to regroup and try and figure something out."

"I'm glad you agree," Maha said with another sigh. "I'm not going to last over here much longer, so if I'm going to take you, it's got to be now. What about you two?" It was impossible to tell who Maha was referring to without a body, but the two newcomers seemed to immediately know they were being addressed.

"This is Mumyi, and you might remember Akilah from yesterday," Aini said, gesturing to each of them in turn. Akilah's brows knotted in obvious confusion, and Ghazi leaned in a bit closer to her.

"She was the camel," she said as means of an explanation. Akilah nodded in understanding, though her complexion had gone a bit ghostly.

"I don't care about their _names_ right now," Maha said exasperatingly, "I'm asking if they're coming with us."

Mumyi pressed his lips in a thin line, glancing at Ghazi with a slightly pink face. "I'll go. If you all are looking for my brother, then I want to help."

Ghazi smiled and nodded, and then turned to Akilah, grabbing up her hands. "Why don't you come with us? Our city isn't perfect, but most everyone there is very kind. Girls certainly don't get punished for not wearing a hijab if they don't feel like it. Everyone lives pretty freely."

Akilah looked down, considering it. She decided quickly, shaking her head. "I still have things I need to do back home. I appreciate the invitation, and maybe someday I'll accept… But not just now. I'm sorry."

Tightening her hold on Akilah's hands, Ghazi smiled. "Don't apologize. I'm definitely going to come back and visit you, though." At the immediate look of concern on Akilah's face, Ghazi laughed. "In _disguise_ , of course. I promise I'll be careful."

"In that case, I'll stay behind and make sure Akilah gets back safely," Aini offered. Maha groaned.

"We don't have time for this! What part of 'now' don't you understand?" she demanded haughtily.

Ghazi frowned. "Aini, you can't-"

"Don't wait for me. I'll be fine, just go." Aini said, smiling. "I was going to stay behind to wait for Haru, anyway. Miss Maha, you said as soon as you healed up you'd be back, didn't you? I'll just wait until then. I have supplies and everything, I'll be fine."

"Aini!" Ghazi grabbed his arm, and he placed his hand over hers.

"It's really fine. I've got my horse, if anything happens I can be out of here in a minute. If Haru gets out of there and comes looking for us, I'd hate for him to find himself all alone."

Ghazi sighed deeply and released Aini's arm. "You had better be careful." she warned.

"I will. Now go."

Akilah stepped toward Aini and away from the others. Ghazi grabbed Mumyi's hand, causing the boy to blush a shade of red very nearly matching the color of his hair. In her other hand, Ghazi held the reigns of her horse. The blob of essence moved toward Ghazi.

"I'll be back for you guys, so don't do anything reckless." Maha warned, and Aini nodded with a grin.

Girl, boy, horse and blob all vanished in an instant. One moment they were there, and the next they had blinked out of sight, leaving only their collective footprints in the sand as proof that they had been there. Hafa's camel grunted and stomped the ground.

Akilah watched the empty space of sand for some time in a stunned silence. Finally, she spoke. "You all have some very interesting friends."

.

.

.

The remainder of their walk was silent. Sa'akah led them into another large room, starkly different from the others. It appeared to be the throne room. Perched at the top of a staircase lined by golden statues sat an elaborate throne, dusty and dull from negligence. The ceiling was tall and domed, painted to look like the summer sky. Beautifully detailed chandeliers hung down, the small light globes floating daintily in place of candles.

Hafa's eyes immediately swept in the direction of a tall, narrow glass enclosure across from the throne. Initially he thought it contained a steady stream of water that cascaded from the ceiling, but after staring at it for several moments, he realized it only _moved_ like water. Without permission, he approached it, transfixed. The substance flowed continuously from above, its source unclear. It didn't seem to be coming from anywhere. The mouth of the stream seemed to fade into thin air from above, and although the flow was constant, there was no pool or accumulation on the floor. It was just a constant stream of blue-gold that seemed to have no end. As Hafa watched it, he noticed that sometimes the flow would be interrupted - if only for a split second - by flickers of light or a nameless disturbance that would cause the stream to shiver and ripple.

"It isn't supposed to do that," Sa'akah commented as another ripple shifted across the surface. "It began doing that five months ago."

"What is it?" Hafa asked, eyes wide and unblinking, staring at the flow as if hypnotized by it. He rose his hand and gently touched the glass that contained it.

"It doesn't have a name. I don't even think our language is developed enough to properly define it. If I had to describe it, I would call it a 'vein' of time. Or an exposed nerve."

Hafa finally turned away to look at Sa'akah, but the taller man had turned his back to him again, walking leisurely up the stairs toward the throne. "What do you mean?"

Sa'akah dragged a finger across the seat of the throne, noting the layer of dust. "Time itself is displayed behind that glass. I'm still not entirely sure how, but long ago someone discovered how to pull it into the physical world. Like I said, an exposed vein or nerve. If 'time' had a body that encompassed everything, then this stream would be merely a vein."

Hafa still wasn't sure he entirely understood, but he had no idea why Sa'akah would waste his energy lying about something so strange. He glanced back at the vein. "What does it do?"

"Nothing. It just continues, and exists. There is no way to tamper with it, as far as I know. It's just a visual representation of the flow of time." Sa'akah tapped his fingertips against the throne.

Hafa touched the glass again. Being near the vein was starting to make him feel strange. "Why would you show this to me?"

Sa'akah finally turned around. "You most likely wouldn't believe what I need to say to you without showing it to you first."

Hafa stepped away from the glass, the strange sensation leaving him once he'd diverted his gaze to Sa'akah. "You said you'd answer my questions, so answer them. How do you know about me, and how do you know about Rim?"

Sighing, Sa'akah sat himself down on the throne, resting his staff against the armrest. He propped up his head with an elbow, looking bored.

"I've known Rim since we were children, but the most recent news was told to me by a traveler who came by the palace looking for someone. I stopped the djinn from killing him because I knew I'd seen him before. Siraj al Din was his name."

Hafa's eyes flew open. "Siraj al Din? He was here?"

"I recognized him as Rim's vizier. I'd met him some time ago at the palace. I treated his wounds and asked him about Rim. At first he refused to say anything, but after I told him I knew how to remove the ifrit Sharik from Rim, he loosened up and told me what had transpired at the palace. The parts he left out I got out of him involuntarily."

"You- How?!" Hafa snarled. "What did you do to him?"

Sa'akah shot Hafa a venomous look. "You're quick to assume the worst, aren't you? I didn't harm him. I gave him a truth serum. He more than likely doesn't remember telling me the rest."

Hafa felt himself relax. Despite this, he still felt irrationally distrustful of Sa'akah, especially since he seemed to know so much about Rim. "Where is he now, then?"

"It's no business of mine. After he was healed, I sent him off. He was adamant about leaving. Off to find his brother, he said."

 _Mumyi_. Hafa thought to ask Sa'akah if he knew anything more about the brothers, but there were other matters he could feel pressing on his mind of greater importance.

"What you said before, about the others finding Rim. What did you mean by that? Do you know where Rim is?" Hafa asked, and Sa'akah leaned back in his seat.

"I've been keeping an eye on him these last few months. And I meant exactly what I said. I brought you here so that Rim might be found. With _you_ looking for him, he's bound to stay lost forever."

"I don't understand what you mean," Hafa snarled, feeling fiercely indignant. He had dedicated the last five months to looking for Rim. He had been away from Makarim for so long because of this, and Sa'akah was implying that his search had been pointless. His anger rose impressively fast. "I'm sure that we can find him. I suffered the same curse, and I was found."

Sa'akah stared at Hafa for a long moment with an almost woeful expression. Finally, he stood up, leaving his staff and walking leisurely toward the time vein.

"What I'm about to say, I don't want you to take the wrong way, though you likely will. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful to you in some form for saving Rim's life, even if the way you accomplished it was by bending the order of nature." He sighed heavily. "What were you expecting to do, really? Do you even understand how the curse was meant to work? What made you think _any_ of you would be able to find Rim, even if _you_ had been found and your curse broken?"

Hafa wasn't quite sure how to respond. He felt as if he had been complimented and then torn down in the same few seconds, and it made him feel rather foolish. He wasn't even sure if he was required to answer, and as Sa'akah easily filled the silence that followed, he presumed not.

"Your search would have lasted years and you wouldn't have found him. You could have spent a lifetime and come up with nothing. And all this time wasted, Rim has been wandering lost, all alone."

"What else were we supposed to do?" Hafa snapped furiously, a familiar guilt reemerging. He took an unconscious step toward the man, hands balled into fists at his sides. "And if _you_ knew where he was this entire time, why didn't you do something about it? Why not save him yourself if you have all the answers?"

Sa'akah watched him with an annoyingly cool gaze. "As I said, you have no idea how the curse is meant to work. I have the means to know where Rim is, but that doesn't mean I can help him."

" _Why not_?" Hafa nearly yelled, feeling bitterness overtake him. "If you know something I don't, why are you sitting up here in this fortress of a palace, reading your books?" Words were spilling from his lips before he could stop them. All of the guilt and anger he felt was overflowing and it felt oddly good to let it out. "Why bring me here just to tell me what a shitty job I've been doing when you could have taken care of this yourself?!"

Something snapped behind Sa'akah's previously calm teal eyes, his face twisting into an angry grimace as he lunged forward, grabbing Hafa's scarf and pulling him in close. Hafa swung at him, but Sa'akah grabbed his wrist with frightening strength.

"Shut your mouth," he said in a menacingly low voice. Hafa could only manage to glare at him in reply. "Don't think for _one second_ that you're the only one suffering. Your humanity has made you childish. If I could save Rim myself, it would have been done ages ago. Do you have any idea how painful it is to be able to see him, but do nothing? _Do you_?" The two of them stared each other down for several tense moments before finally Sa'akah released Hafa's scarf, and Hafa stumbled backwards, regaining his balance. Hafa looked away, feeling properly chastised.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Hafa wasn't sure what to say. He felt rotten, but he still felt an intense bitterness toward Sa'akah that he couldn't explain. Perhaps he _was_ being childish. As Hafa stared at the time vein, Sa'akah finally spoke, his voice devoid of the anger he'd unloaded moments before.

"The curse is simple, but it's powerful in its simplicity. The target of the curse is to wander endlessly on the sands as an immortal. The target's soul is kept safe in a magickal object - in your case, an old brass pipe - so that the cursed may never die. Each time they expire, their body is healed by magick and they wake again just to repeat the same thing over and over, their soul trapped, never able to move on." He flashed his gaze in Hafa's direction, but Hafa still didn't have the courage to look back at him. "When you were cursed, Sharik convinced Rim to steal all of the water and trap it in the palace. He wanted you to suffer as much as possible."

Hafa frowned at the glass, his face dimly reflected on its surface. He averted his eyes to the floor. He didn't even want to look at himself right now. "I know that much." Hafa said quietly. In truth, he had originally thought the lack of water had been part of the curse, but once they'd used the ring to set things right and return water to the land, he'd realized Sharik had been solely responsible.

"I'm just curious. How were you found, and who found you?" Sa'akah asked suddenly. Hafa's gaze raised only briefly.

"It was nothing special. I passed out, and someone found me, picked me up and brought me to the city."

"That someone turned out to be important to you." Sa'akah said, not even bothering to form it as a question. Hafa said nothing. Makarim was incredibly precious to him, but he didn't want to involve Makarim in the conversation if he could help it.

"Makarim, is that right? The bearer of the Seal of Solomon?"

Hafa's expression noticeably twitched. Sa'akah sighed again, irritably.

"I told you. I have no interest in the ring, _or_ the one called Makarim. I was searching for the ring myself some time ago, but since Rim is no longer afflicted by Sharik, I have no need for it now."

"What does Makarim have to do with this?" Hafa asked hotly.

"You've probably figured this out by now, but Makarim broke your curse. Every curse and spell has its loopholes. The curse can be broken by someone who is connected to the cursed by fate. More specifically, a red ribbon."

Hafa frowned. "Red ribbon?"

"Some call it a red cord, as well. It's an ancient East Asian belief that people fated to meet are connected by a red ribbon. It's meant to be more metaphorical than anything else, but the scholars who lived here in the palace believed in it, and they believed in its power. They wrote many manuscripts on the subject, and performed many experiments." Sa'akah's eyes wandered back to the throne, where his staff rested. "This place used to belong to Shaddad, son of Ad, which likely means nothing to you. His name is long forgotten. He lived long before King Solomon, but he might have been just as great and terrible of a king, I'm not sure. He conquered dozens of kingdoms, owned hundreds of horses and women, and the palace alone is proof of his wealth. But he was obsessed with time, and fate. He and the scholars who lived here spent much of their lives attempting to prolong life and avoid death. He was terrified of dying. Of course, nothing worked. In the end, the place that was meant to grant him eternal life ended up becoming his tomb."

Hafa watched Sa'akah curiously, wondering what in the world that story had to do with him, Rim or the curse. Sa'akah looked down at the ground, his expression distant.

"Even after you die, the ribbons of fate remain intact. They are tied to you forever. No matter how many times you are reborn, you will always find the people tied to you. That's the belief, anyway."

"Are you saying that Rim can only be found by someone tied to him by fate?" Hafa asked. Sa'akah didn't look up.

"That's the basic premise."

Dim memories flooded Hafa's mind, lining up with the words that Sa'akah was saying to him. He'd seen many lives before. Every time he remembered one of them, Makarim made a point of writing it down. He had witnessed so many lives when he'd been trapped in his mortal vessel as a djinn, both long past and far into the future; he had suspected for some time that he was fated to meet the others over and over again.

"I still don't understand why you brought me here," Hafa said, annoyed. "What makes you think I'm incapable of finding Rim, after everything you just said?"

Sa'akah stared at Hafa cooly. "You're not connected to anyone. Not anymore. Searching for him is the same as making sure he's lost forever. Your paths are not meant to intersect."

Hafa returned Sa'akah's stare with one of disdain. "What are you talking about? You just said-"

"I know what I said." Sa'akah cut him off sharply. "When the Son of Solomon found you on the sands, your fate was intact. The moment you were reunited with your soul, however, you became a thing that shouldn't exist. A soulless entity that was neither human nor djinn. Whatever was left of you somehow found its home inside of that body, and now that you're completely mortal, I'm not even sure _what_ to call you." His tone was regretful despite the harshness of his words. "Your existence is a contradiction. When such a thing occurs, the 'ribbons' are severed. Because of this, you were only prolonging the amount of time it would take for the others to find Rim by helping to search for him." His expression softened. "To put it simply, you were negating the efforts of those who are still connected to him."

Hafa heard the words, but he couldn't comprehend them. In a way, he wasn't surprised. The words Sa'akah spoke were things he already knew about himself. He was splintered. The quest to save Rim had been a good distraction from the discord that was raging inside of his mind. Makarim had helped to soothe his nerves somewhat; he knew Makarim accepted him. Makarim didn't see him as something defective and broken, but Hafa couldn't help but feel that way regardless.

He felt overwhelming disbelief. For so long, he had only been hindering their rescue efforts. Would Rim have been found sooner if Aini and Ghazi had gone alone? How much sooner? If he'd thought about it a little harder, or bothered to learn the true nature of the curse he'd placed on his friend, would things have been different?

Consumed by his thoughts, Hafa stared at the ground, feeling vaguely sick. "How… Do you know…"

Sa'akah laughed sharply, humorlessly. "I know."

"I've seen visions," Hafa continued, thinking out loud, " _so many_ visions of lives that haven't happened yet, everyone is there… _I'm_ there..."

"Fate can be altered. It changes constantly. Normally humans can't see into the future, or glimpse future lives, so it doesn't make any difference to them. They don't know what decisions will shape their destiny."

Hafa felt miserable. He wanted to sleep. Anything was better than listening to what Sa'akah was saying. What did it mean to be forever separated from those you cared about? He had the remainder of this life with Makarim, but what would happen to him after? If Sa'akah was correct, and he was a contradiction that wasn't meant to exist, would he simply cease to be? Had he affected the paths of his loved ones as well, or would they continue on without him, undisturbed?

"What of Rim…?" Hafa heard himself ask, his throat dry. Sa'akah was silent for a long moment.

"Once he's reunited with his soul, he'll be just the same. In cursing him, you pulled his soul from beyond in order to heal his dead body. He will become a being who isn't meant to exist. And just like that," Sa'akah rose his hand, his pointer and middle finger mimicking a pair of scissors, " _snip, snip snip_. His ribbons will be cut, and his fate will be forever changed."

He hadn't realized it, but his legs were shaking. Hafa felt a tremor run through him, and the sick feeling in his stomach intensified. He placed a hand against the cool glass covering the time vein to steady himself, frightened that he may actually fall over.

He'd meant to save him. He only wanted Rim to be alive, to be able to talk to him again and hear his voice without Sharik's shadow laughing behind his words. Instead, he'd ruined him. He'd turned Rim into a defect of nature and denied his soul a future. Hafa almost wondered if it would have been better to let him die.

"Hafa." It was the first time Sa'akah had addressed Hafa by his name, and he couldn't help but stiffen at the word. Hafa said nothing, answering only with a slight shift of his eyes, worried that if he moved, he would vomit. Sa'akah looked unexpectedly troubled. "Have you ever wondered where your human body came from?"

.

.

.

"Makarim, think about this for a minute!" Najiya insisted, following the man around the room as Makarim searched for things he would need, stuffing items haphazardly into a bag. "Just calm down for a second, and try not to panic!"

Makarim flashed Najiya an uncharacteristically irate look. "They're telling me that giant eagles have taken Haru to a mysterious palace that no one has ever returned from!" Makarim said crossly as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom above the shop, bag slung over his shoulder. "Don't tell me not to panic!"

Najiya chose not to follow him up, instead looking back at the others with a pleading expression. Reem, Ghazi and Mumyi stood in Makarim's lower living area, all of them equally unsure of what to do or say.

Once she'd gotten them back to the city walls, Maha left them so that she could continue to heal. They immediately headed to Makarim's shop to explain everything that had occurred. Najiya and Reem had thankfully been at the shop already, helping Makarim unload a shipment of clay, and so they were able to tell them all at once.

"You don't understand, Miss Maha says they were djinn! _Ghuls_!" Ghazi called up to him, wringing her hands anxiously. "You'd be helpless against them! What do you think you can do without the ring?"

Makarim postponed answering, quickly sifting through drawers, filling his bag with other essentials for traveling. Moments later he was coming back down, his bag sagging more heavily than before.

"I don't know, but I can't stay here and wait for something to happen." Makarim disappeared from the room, grabbing his turban and thwab. He came back moments later to begin packing another bag.

"Makarim!" Reem crossed the room and grabbed Makarim's shoulders tightly, his expression fierce. " _Listen_ to them! This palace sounds incredibly dangerous, and considering everything we've been told, going there by yourself without Miss Maha's help would be _suicide-_ "

" _I'm sick and tired of being useless to him_!" Makarim yelled, angrily shrugging Reem's hands off of him. Reem stared at him in wide-eyed shock, and everyone else in the room fell deathly quiet. "I've stood by for as long as I can stand! I haven't been able to do a thing for five months, and now something like this has happened… If Najiya were the one out there, would you be doing any differently?"

Reem's surprise melted as did his resolve, and he flushed while distractedly adjusting his eye glasses. Behind him, Najiya was intently focusing on a button of his shirt, his face pink.

"I'm sorry for shouting," Makarim said apologetically, his eyes losing their earlier intensity. "It's just that… This is something I have to do. I understand the danger involved, but staying here and doing nothing would feel worse than anything that could happen to me out there."

"Makarim," Najiya started, continuing to fidget with his shirt, "What about Rani and Ru'a...? And what about those men we told you about, and the Sultan?"

Makarim had been stuffing a blanket into a larger bag when suddenly his arm stopped. He stared at the floor and then sighed.

"I'm trusting the twins to you while I'm gone," he said. "As for the men from Sama Al-Kah… You said there were no more than fifteen of them, right?" Both Reem and Najiya nodded. "Even lacking soldiers of our own, no city of this size was ever taken by a mere fifteen men. Besides, they had their Sultan with them. They would never risk his safety. They probably camped outside our walls because they figured it would be a safe place to rest."

Najiya chewed his bottom lip. "But, Makarim…"

"I'm not saying they're not up to something, but currently they're not posing any threat, right?" Makarim said, closing his second bag once he'd pulled another blanket into it. "Keep an eye on them, of course, and if they start acting suspicious, get the city dwellers involved." He glanced at Ghazi. "When did Miss Maha say she would be feeling well enough to return to the palace?"

"A few hours at best," Ghazi replied regretfully. Makarim nodded.

"I'm going to ask her to take me with her, then."

"She might be against that," the girl warned.

"It won't be a request, strictly speaking." Makarim answered seriously. He set down his bags by the door, and then glanced at the company, his eyes falling on Mumyi, who looked incredibly out-of-place. "You can make yourself at home, while you're here. I'm sorry for meeting you like this."

Mumyi offered Makarim a slanted grin. "Ahh, don't worry about it," he said, criss-crossing his hands behind his neck. "This whole day has been kind of like a long, weird dream, so I'm finding it hard to be surprised by anything."

Makarim smiled and nodded. "If you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go talk to Rani and Ru'a."

"They won't be happy you're leaving," Najiya pointed out with a grimace.

"I know," Makarim sighed. "Oh, Reem, would you mind closing up the shop for the day while I'm out?"

"Of course," Reem answered.

.

.

.

Halfway to his father's house, the panic hit Makarim full-force.

Ducking into an alley, Makarim rested his head against the cool stone wall, struggling to breathe. The feeling was creeping up on him again, discomfort spreading across his back and filling up his chest like a thick, suffocating liquid. It had to be stress. The last few months had been peppered with attacks like these, but today it felt different. Stronger. It had to be because of how concerned he was about Haru.

The conversation he'd had with everyone back at the shop didn't even feel real. He had worried every day about how Haru and the others were doing, but he never imagined something like this could happen. Giant eagles? A palace without an entrance? Hadn't they dealt with enough magick and mystery for one lifetime?

Makarim felt all the strength leave his legs and he sank to his knees, fighting to get his breath back. His hands were shaking and his chest still felt like it was on fire. He felt so _weak_. He was no good to Haru like this. Trying to focus on breathing without choking, Makarim closed his eyes and pulled steady, slow breaths through his nose, letting them out through his mouth.

He continued this for several minutes, his head beginning to feel light and floaty, the pain in his back and chest slowly and thankfully dissipating. He almost thought he could hear an oppressive hissing in his ears, accompanied by garbled whispering; as soon as his breath returned to him, the strange sounds faded seamlessly into the ambient noise of the city and were forgotten.

Makarim stumbled to his feet, bracing himself on the wall for support. He needed to be strong for Haru. As long as Haru had the ring, he knew he would be alright. He had faith in him.

Swallowing his anxiety, Makarim collected himself and left the alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lookit Sousuke, coming in and just wrecking Haru's shit. Just _wrecking_ it. And bringing all this plot with him. hu hu hu. 
> 
> not sure what else to say about this chapter other than " _well, shit._ " I smell angst on the horizon! Also, Samezuka boyfriends hooooooo (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> Happy 2015 everyone! (and holy _crap_ I've been writing Palace since 2013. I don't know how to feel about that???)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hafa is done listening, Sa'akah has a favor to ask, and Aini meets someone he very badly wanted to see.

He'd taken a bath today, but he didn't feel clean.

The scorching summer heat meant that water was to be used frugally, and more days were spent inside, hiding from the sun. Sa'akah had barely left the house in days. The heat had been deadly, and many of the village animals had perished.

Today was bearable. As the people moved about the village harvesting what was left of their sun-beaten crops, Sa'akah was walking to their secret meeting place. He usually ran there, but it was still too hot for that.

Behind the village, not thirty meters from the Corys River which emptied into the Erythraean sea was a large, twisted dead tree that was said to be older than the village. It's trunk was massive in girth, and inside was their secret place. Some time ago lightening struck the tree, creating a great crack in the trunk, small enough for children to slip through. Rim had discovered it at the end of the previous year.

Sa'akah wiped his brow as he reached the tree. Stepping through the crack, he found himself stuck for a brief time before he wiggled just the right way and managed to slip through. He'd been growing a lot lately - in the right ways, he hoped - and where he'd previously been able to enter the tree trunk without touching either side of the crevice, now he felt it press him on both sides. He supposed they would have to whittle the edges a bit more.

"I was expecting Rim first." said a girl's voice, and Sa'akah wiped off the front of his shirt.

"Hmm? He's not here with you?" he asked, his eyes adjusting to the inside of the tree. Cracks from above let in enough sunlight to be able to see, but the sun had been shining brightly enough on the sand to blind him. Slowly Ghazi's small form came into focus, sitting on the wooden bench he and Rim had crafted for their fort. She shook her head, hugging a jointed doll to her chest. "Why not?"

"He walked me here, and then he said he forgot something and had to run back home," Ghazi explained, swinging her legs. Her lips pulled into a pout. "He wouldn't tell me what, though."

"Huh." Sa'akah walked to the bench and sat down, breathing a sigh. It was refreshing and cool inside their tree. He suspected the wood acted as a decent absorber of heat, and the updraft from the far-off sea may have contributed. Whatever the reason, he was grateful.

Sa'akah and Ghazi talked for several minutes before Rim appeared, slipping easily through the entrance, a wide grin on his face.

"Ahh, Sa'akah, you're here already…"

"Of course I am, you're the one whose late," Sa'akah pointed out. "And what's with leaving Ghazi here all by herself? What if I'd been held up at home or something?"

Rim reddened. "It's not like anyone else knows about this place but the four of us!" he spat hotly. "You're too overprotective."

Sa'akah rolled his eyes, smirking. " _One_ of us has to be."

"Why, you…" Rim glanced at Ghazi, his expression becoming soft, as it often did whenever he regarded his younger sister. "You're fine, aren't you?"

Ghazi smiled brightly and nodded her head. "Mmhmm."

"See? Stop giving me a hard time!" Rim announced, punching Sa'akah in the shoulder. Sa'akah easily shoved him off, laughing.

"What was it you had to go back home and get?" Sa'akah asked curiously. Rim knelt down to open a wooden chest sitting on the floor beside the bench, sifting through it. They called it their treasure chest, though the items inside could hardly be considered treasure. Rocks, feathers, a strange stone coin Aini had found when they'd been digging down by the river, and sticks of varying sizes and shapes: nothing striking his fancy, Rim closed the chest.

"I forget," Rim said offhandedly, but Sa'akah noticed the pink that had crept into Rim's cheeks and the furtive way his eyes swept away from him. Sa'akah wasn't one to pry, so he allowed the subject to drop. He knew well how sensitive Rim tended to be, no matter how adamantly the aforementioned disputed this fact.

Heavy breathing and the occasional gasp sounded from outside the tree, and a moment later Aini was climbing through the crack, bracing his hands on his knees. He usually arrived in this manner, eager to appear punctual and dependable to the older boys regardless of how many times Sa'akah told him it really didn't matter. Rim whirled around, placing his hands on his hips.

"You're late!" Rim said, tapping his foot as if he'd been waiting for Aini to arrive.

Aini took another moment to collect himself before he spoke. "I'm… sorry…" he panted, his face pink from running in the heat, "I didn't realize… what time it was…"

"Unacceptable!" Rim announced authoritatively, tossing his hair. "I have a mind to cast you out, right now!"

Although both Sa'akah and Ghazi knew that Rim was teasing, Aini almost looked like he could cry. Loudly, Sa'akah cleared his throat.

"Says the boy who arrived just moments ago," he said. "We didn't really agree on a set time anyway, did we? Stop acting so spoiled."

"Oy!" Rim cried. Ghazi giggled, and Aini noticeably relaxed.

"I brought us some treats," Aini offered, pulling a bulging leather sack from his back pocket. Rim, Sa'akah and Ghazi all watched with wide, curious gazes as Aini emptied some of its contents over his hand; shriveled, dark purple fruit spilled into his palm. "Father found a date tree on his way back from Mecca, and he gave me a whole bunch this morning! I thought we could all share them."

Rim sprang forward gleefully. " _Dates_! It's been a long time since I've had one!" He plucked one from Aini's hand and handed it to Ghazi, who had rushed over and was currently bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. She eagerly took a bite, whimpering in delight.

"It's so sweet!" she squeaked. Once the little girl had eaten the boys dug in, careful to split the fruit evenly among them.

.

.

.

The sun hung low in the sky, bringing with it a wave of relief from the searing heat of the day. The children knew better than to stay out too late. Aini took his leave first, as was typical; his father required his help at home often, and he couldn't usually play as late as the others.

As Sa'akah and Rim walked along the snaking path that divided the village, both of them holding one of Ghazi's small hands, Sa'akah spoke.

"How is your father?"

Rim smiled. "He's doing a lot better," he said over his sister's head. Ghazi seemed to barely be listening, too tired from the heat and hours of playing. Her feet dragged, and Rim gently pulled her hand to keep her from nodding off.

They reached Rim's house. Rim helped Ghazi through the door, guiding her by her shoulders. "Can you hang on for a second?" Rim asked Sa'akah, before Sa'akah could say his usual goodbye. Blinking in surprise, Sa'akah merely nodded as Rim disappeared inside.

When Rim reappeared, he motioned for Sa'akah to follow him. The two of them walked along the path, Sa'akah wondering what had prompted Rim to want to talk to him alone.

"Father isn't actually doing any better," Rim said, though he sounded surprisingly calm. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Ghazi."

"I understand." He paused, watching the ground in front of his feet as they walked. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"

"Not yet. He's been seen by two physicians, and neither one of them can help him. We don't have anymore money to pay them, even if they _could_ help."

Sa'akah's eyes narrowed at the path, and he kicked a rock out of his way. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Rim said with a sigh. "There's nothing you can do about it, so apologizing is pointless."

The two of them walked along in silence, kicking at pebbles, vaguely aware that the sun had dipped just below the horizon. As the orange-red hues of evening began melding into shades of soft blue, Rim stopped walking, leaving Sa'akah to follow suit a step in front, turning to face him. A timid brand of tension vibrated between them.

"We're moving away." Rim said, his eyes finding Sa'akah's and holding his stare. Sa'akah's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. "There's a Shaman my grandfather met who agreed to try and heal my father. I guess they say he's a miracle worker, or something." He looked down and away, fixing his gaze on a patch of yellowed grass that was poking out from some dry soil. "That's why I wanted to talk to you, really. I wanted you to know."

Sa'akah swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat. "Does Ghazi know?"

"Not yet."

"Where are you going?"

"Kindah." Rim answered stiffly. The kingdom of Kindah was far enough away that Sa'akah knew he would likely never see Rim or Ghazi ever again.

"How will you pay him?"

Rim's lips pressed into a line, and he scratched his nails through his hair. "My grandfather made a deal with him, something about me working for him, like an apprenticeship."

A wrenching feeling settled uncomfortably in Sa'akah's stomach. "He _sold_ you?"

Rim scoffed. "Kind of." Regarding Sa'akah's blown open eyes and hanging mouth, Rim waved a hand petulantly in the air. "It's not _that_ bad. I'll still get to live with my family and everything. I'll just be working for this Shaman guy."

"And when your father gets better, what then?" Sa'akah asked. The air grew quiet. Rim stared at the ground forlornly, forsaking a response. Sa'akah didn't pressure for one. Neither of them believed his father would get better.

Breaking the silence, Rim stretched his arms into the air, groaning in satisfaction. "I wanted to tell you first, anyway. I'll tell Aini later, but I get the feeling he'll cry."

Sa'akah laughed through his nose. "I bet he will."

"There's one more thing," Rim said, searching around in his pocket. He pulled something free, and extended it to Sa'akah. "Here."

Rim dropped the item in Sa'akah's hands, and the boy's fingers curled around it, inspecting it. It was a bracelet, the band made from leather strips that were painstakingly braided together. Holding it up close to his face, Sa'akah noticed a lovely jewel carefully set in a crude metal piece that the leather strips were tied to. Sa'akah looked at Rim.

"You made this?"

"Yeah," Rim said, with a hint of pride.

"This gem, is it really okay to give this to me?" Sa'akah asked, pointing out the deep purple jewel. Rim grinned.

"I found it a while back down by the river. I didn't really know what to do with it until I started making the bracelet. It's pretty though, right? It's like a good luck charm."

Sa'akah dangled the bracelet between his eyes, getting a good look at it in the darkness. "Is this what you 'forgot' at home earlier?"

Rim laughed, embarrassed. "Yeah, I thought I'd give it to you sooner but... I don't have Aini's finished yet, so I didn't want to give you yours in front of him." He paused. "I didn't have the courage to tell Aini and Ghazi everything today like I'd planned, either. Once we were all together, I just wanted to have as much fun as possible."

Gripping the bracelet tightly in his hand, Sa'akah's chest tightened painfully. He didn't want Rim to leave. Rim's life was going to change drastically and Sa'akah would remain here, undisturbed. He wouldn't be able to help Rim at all. The secret tree meant nothing to him if Rim wasn't there.

"If your father got better before you had to leave… Then..." Sa'akah spoke quietly, unsure as to why he was saying such a thing. Rim smiled pensively.

"Yeah." was all he said.

Sa'akah nearly felt like he could cry, but he didn't dare. Instead he slid the bracelet over his right hand, staring at it. "I'll treasure it." he said.

"You better!" Rim said in mock-warning. He grinned cockily a moment later, tilting his head. "Don't forget about me when I'm gone, okay? I made you that so we can stay connected forever. So that means you definitely can't forget about me, no matter what."

It was such an overly romantic things to say, such a _Rim_ thing to say. Sa'akah's mind overflowed with things he wanted to reply with. He nearly let it all out, let the emotional tirade consume him and tell Rim exactly how he felt, but he didn't. As Rim began walking toward home, Sa'akah merely matched his pace, walking close to Rim's side, his chest tight and his eyes stinging.

.

.

.

Though he wasn't able to walk Akilah back to her village without risking being seen, Aini watched her from a safe distance, ensuring she could slip back into town without being hassled. When he was satisfied she was alright, Aini wasted no time returning to the spot where they had all congregated before, atop the hill with the best view of the palace.

Aini sat on the sand and set his gaze determinedly on the palace, watchful for massive feathered shadows looming from above.

For close to three hours Aini hadn't seen any movement around the palace, and nothing in the skies. Miss Maha hadn't returned yet, but he'd seen the state she was in, and suspected she needed more time to heal. He was beginning to regret his decision to stay behind, not for his own comfort, but because he felt astoundingly helpless. He had no news from either end, no idea what was being planned, and there had been no developments that he could see. He had initially wanted to stay in case Hafa returned, had he managed to free himself from the ghuls or whatever those giant birds were; but as each minute ticked by without seeing him alive and well, Aini's worry grew.

From behind him, Hafa's camel groaned and stomped, pulling Aini from his thoughts. Aini stood up, brushing the sand from his pants. "You're worried too, I bet." The camel tilted his head up and grunted again. Aini placed a hand on the animal's snout, and the creature snorted in approval.

An incredible distance away, something moved.

Squinting against the sun, Aini strained to see it. A figure, it looked like, lumbering slowly away in the distance. Aini wondered if he had been in the sun too long; it didn't seem possible to have noticed something so miniscule. Before long, the figure had vanished into the shimmering desert heat.

A surge of elation coursed through him. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a strong pull in the direction of the figure. He reminded himself that it could have been anything; a mirage, a dog, a nomad perhaps, but still his chest swelled with something strangely familiar, something he'd not felt since his time at the palace.

Aini looked back at the palace without entrance, feeling torn. He didn't feel right abandoning Hafa, even if his presence did nothing to assist him. From behind, the tugging sensation grew in tenacity. Having made up his mind, Aini untied his horse from the camel's head harness, patting the animal's neck.

"You'll stay, won't you? To wait for Hafa?" Aini asked the camel as he mounted his horse. Of course he received no answer aside from a snort. Aini cast one last look back at the palace, and then pulled on the reins. He and his horse started off, sand flying from the animal's hooves, leaving the palace behind them. He intended to come back. As soon as he learned what it was that evoked such a feeling of urgency within him, he would return.

.

.

.  
  
Hafa was numb. Sa'akah had gone quiet, watching Hafa evenly for a reaction. Hafa wasn't sure what sort of reaction he could have wanted. Anger? Sadness? Whatever it was he was feeling, it stirred within his stomach like a hurricane and made him wish he'd never come to this place. He would have rather lived in ignorance. All at once he understood why so many humans chose to live without facing reality, wrapped in a blanket of their own delusions.

"My body…. Belonged to someone else?" Hafa repeated softly.

"Yes. Curses can't just create flesh and bone bodies on their own. It may have been someone who died on the sands, or perhaps the curse was responsible for the man's death... There's no way to know. How it happened is irrelevant."

Hafa looked down at his hands, a rush of sickness rising in his throat when he realized that they weren't _his_ hands, they never had been. Why hadn't he thought about it before? Why did it never occur to him that something like this may have happened after he'd been suddenly forced into a mortal vessel? When he'd opened his eyes for the first time and felt this mortal body creak back to life, why did it not strike him to consider how it had happened?

What would Makarim think? Makarim had touched him in this body. He'd shared a bed with him. How could he possibly tell Makarim that he'd been loving someone's corpse? Surely Makarim would tell him that it didn't make a difference to him, that he loved Hafa no matter what form he took, but he would only be hiding his disgust. The reality of it would always loom over him. In the end, how long would Makarim be able to tolerate being with a fateless, soulless being whose flesh didn't belong to him?

"Hey," Sa'akah was holding Hafa by the shoulders, keeping him upright. Hafa realized hazily that he must have almost blacked out. Having Sa'akah hold him up was embarrassing, but he felt too listless to push him off. He also had no guarantee that he would be able to stand without help.

He was wordlessly led by Sa'akah to an area on the other side of the throne room which had yet to be illuminated. The darkness felt good against Hafa's eyes, and he allowed Sa'akah to sit him down in a large cushioned chair. Hafa sank into it, boneless.

"Just sit there and get yourself together." Sa'akah instructed coldly, leaving him to climb the stairs to the throne and collect his staff before striding toward the massive door through which they had entered. "I'll be back shortly." he called, voice echoing as he disappeared into the hall.

Hafa leaned back in the cushions, closing his eyes. He didn't want to think of anything. He wanted to leave, but he wasn't sure where he wanted to be if not here. He wasn't sure he could face Makarim or anyone else after everything he'd learned. For a wild moment Hafa thought to dismiss everything Sa'akah had told him as elaborate lies, but he knew he couldn't. There was nothing Sa'akah stood to gain by lying to him. Even worse, everything made sense. While Hafa had spent the last few months with such a simplistic goal in mind, Sa'akah was here, holding onto all of the answers. He suddenly felt more worthless than he ever had before.

Sa'akah returned relatively quickly, carrying a golden cup filled with steaming liquid. He extended it to Hafa, and the latter regarded the cup with suspicion. Sa'akah sighed. "It's tea. I'd be happy to take the first sip if you really distrust me that much."

Hafa took the cup carefully, and Sa'akah wandered to the wall, resting his staff next to him.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

Blowing over the tea before taking an experimental sip, Hafa nodded vaguely. The tea was bitter, but invigorating. He felt infinitely more embarrassed that Sa'akah seemed to be waiting on him. More than anything, he did not desire pity in any form.

"Good. There's more I need to talk to you about."

Hafa's teeth ground against one another. "No."

A flicker of irritation rose behind Sa'akah's eyes. "No?"

"I'm sick of this. You've done nothing but tell me horrible things that I don't want to hear. I'm done listening."

Sa'akah's lip twitched in a snarl. "The _horrible things_ I've been telling you are facts. Regardless of whether or not you want to hear them doesn't make them any less true."

"Are you enlightening me, then, just to make me miserable? How do you even _know_ all of this?" Hafa demanded angrily.

A thick tension filled the following silence. The two men were locked in decisive eye-contact, waging a silent battle of wits. Sa'akah relented first, letting out a long sigh and crossing his arms, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

"I'm no expert on curses, but the scholars who lived here were. I've learned a lot from reading their manuscripts. The curse you bore must have been conjured up by Sharik, because I've never read about it. I can only make educated guesses based on what happened and how it functioned."

"I'm not just talking about the curse," Hafa admitted. "You know more about Sharik than Siraj al Din likely did. Rim, too."

"I told you," Sa'akah countered irritably, "I've known Rim since we were young. We were born in the same village."

The room went thoughtfully silent. "When the fire took the village, were you there?" Hafa asked, looking down into his tea.

Sa'akah's expression became something unreadable. "Yes." After an uneasy pause, he spoke again, stiffly. "I met Sharik that night."

Hafa fell silent, focusing on drinking his tea. So many questions floated among them, but Hafa was finding it more difficult that he previously thought to ask them. Bringing up the fire had put both of them in a somber mood.

"You mentioned visiting Rim's palace. What happened there? Why did you go?"

The slight shift in conversation seemed to alleviate the gloom that had fallen over the room. Sa'akah's eyes rolled upward, recalling the memory. "I had tracked Rim to the village where he and Ghazi were living after our own burned down. When I found they had run away, I searched for them until I heard word of a Prince Rim who had inexplicably come to rule an entire kingdom… I knew Sharik had something to do with it, so I traveled there and tried to seek an audience with him. Rim appeared, but Sharik took control of him immediately. I realized nothing could be done until Sharik was removed from Rim, so I left and began searching for the Seal of Solomon."

Hafa was confused. "I stayed with Rim while he was living at the village. I never saw you."

"Naturally. I never made myself known." Sa'akah drawled, as if it were obvious. Hafa frowned.

"If you knew where Rim was, why didn't you see him?" he inquired. "He thought he'd lost everyone, he was _miserable-_ "

"I couldn't." Sa'akah put in sharply. Hafa opened his mouth to object and was quickly silenced by a vehement and vaguely threatening glance in his direction. "I _couldn't_." he repeated, more firmly. "We're leaving it at that."

Across the room, the vein warbled somewhat, then thinned out. It resumed its normal and endless flow soon after. Hafa drank his tea. He felt his string of question-asking was effectively over. He would get no more out of Sa'akah than the man was willing to part with, and it was obvious that the well had run dry.

Hafa set his empty cup down and carefully got up, his head spinning only minimally. His eyes were trained on the time vein, remembering something Sa'akah had said just after they'd entered the room.

"Before, you said that it 'shouldn't be doing that'," Hafa said. "Did you mean the distortion?"

Without even a sidelong glance in his direction, Sa'akah grabbed up his staff and approached the vein. Hafa followed him.

"Until five months ago, the stream had been constant and unchanging. It's always been that way. Like I said, it's nothing more than a visual representation of time, and time never changes."

"What would make it start behaving differently?" Hafa asked.

Sa'akah heaved a sigh. "I have a few ideas. Once I'd heard everything that happened at the palace, pieces fell into place." He glanced at Hafa. "Siraj al Din told me that Sharik summoned hoards of djinn within a Pentacle of Solomon. Something like that must have caused a quake across the Planes. That circle was never meant to be used."

Hafa remembered running through the palace halls, seeing distortions in the air. He had felt the two worlds - both djinn and human - grinding against one another. Once Makarim had ordered all of the djinn back to the Other World, Hafa assumed the damage had been reversed.

"They overlapped. I remember." Hafa said.

"The first Unholy Event." Sa'akah continued. "The second was a djinn soul becoming mortal. The third was Rim's revival."

"Unholy Events?" Hafa repeated, somewhat repugnantly.

"That's what the eagles call the incidents that lead to the collapse of time and reality. They're positive it will be the end of everything."

Hafa stared at Sa'akah, and then at the vein. He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to think something like that was possible, but after everything he'd seen, he was inclined to believe it. Just that morning Ghazi had made mention of the sun's premature rise, and Hafa had been dismissing the effects for some time as mortal error.

"Do you believe that?"

"The evidence is right in front of us." Sa'akah pointed out. "You haven't seen the Other World as of late. It's crumbling. The effects will continue to worsen until time unwinds and the reality we know breaks down completely." The vein shivered, perhaps in anticipation.

Hafa shook his head and stepped away from the vein. "Why are you telling _me_ all of this?" he asked earnestly. "I still don't understand. What can _I_ do to fix this? To fix _anything_?"

Sa'akah's eyes shifted to hold Hafa's troubled gaze. "Now that I've explained everything, I need a favor from you."

Hafa nearly laughed. "A favor?"

The next words were said carefully, but with the casual air of two men discussing the weather. "There's no delicate way to say it. The body you've stolen needs to be returned to the sands. Your soul doesn't belong in this world." He sounded vaguely rueful. "I'm asking you to move on."

The vein pulsed violently and then went quiet. Hafa wondered if time was sentient or perhaps had a twisted sense of humor, though he supposed not. Sa'akah's words left him in a muddled state of indignance. What he was suggesting was reasonable, and this is what clawed at Hafa the most. After everything he'd learned and everything he'd felt these last few months, he knew Sa'akah was right. He shouldn't exist. He had no right to claim this body as his own. Still, he felt a rush of fear for his life that was so intoxicatingly new and inherently human it convinced him that he still wanted to live. Death used to mean so little to him and now it held such a terrifying weight. Decisively, Hafa took a step backward.

"You brought me here to ask me to die?" Hafa asked angrily.

Sa'akah made no move toward him. "More or less. I needed to tell you about Rim, as well, but I figured I'd slip in the whole _saving the world_ thing while we were at it."

"You can't just _guilt_ me into giving up my life-"

"I'm not trying to guilt you." Sa'akah said firmly, evenly. "Do you not understand how serious this situation is? If we don't attempt to correct the events that led to this, we're dooming _everyone_ to die."

"How do you even know something like that will change anything?" Hafa challenged bitterly. Sa'akah frowned.

"I don't. Trying to correct the Unholy Events is the only option I can see. If we do nothing, everyone still dies."

Sa'akah's words cut into Hafa life a cold knife. Hafa thought of Makarim, Rim, Rani, Ru'a and everyone else who was important to him. He couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to them. His fear vanished, replaced with despair. He didn't want to die. Even now, as he looked at his reflection in the glass, acutely aware that his body was not his own, he had grown to enjoy being alive.

Somewhere along the way, he had started to think of his future. Maybe 'daydreaming' was a better term for it. He thought of finding Rim and bringing him back to the city, living with Makarim, passing his days working with Makarim in his shop and helping to raise Rani and Ru'a. He wanted to talk more with Najiya and Reem. He wanted to see Rim and Ghazi smile together like they used to. There were so many things he wanted out of his life, even if he knew he'd be forced to live with a sizable hole inside of him, never feeling like a complete being.

He wanted to live, but he wanted the others to live more. If he could ensure that the rest of them survived…

"I'm not going to force you to do anything," Sa'akah said with a sigh, breaking Hafa from his thoughts. "Despite what opinion you may hold of me, I don't take any joy in asking this of you."

Hafa turned away from his reflection. "What about Rim? Are you going to ask the same of him?"

Sa'akah tapped his staff against the ground, and all around them the glowing orbs fizzled out, casting the room in shadow. The time vein seemed to radiate its own light, more soft and pulsating than it was illuminating; Sa'akah turned to face the door as if preparing to leave, but he remained motionless for some time.

"Would you want me to?" he finally asked.

"No." Hafa answered firmly.

Sa'akah laughed softly. "Do you think ill of me that I would ask you to die so easily, but could never bring myself to ask Rim the same?"

Hafa said nothing. He had endured unfounded bitterness toward Sa'akah in ways he could neither put into words nor explain to himself, but now he only felt relief. Somehow, he knew Sa'akah could never ask Rim to give up his life. Perhaps in that one way the two of them were exactly alike.

"I'll give you time to think everything over. I don't mean to rush you, but I'm not sure how much time we have left to decide… I'd appreciate it if you could keep the vital bits of our conversation to yourself, for now. Especially from Rim." Sa'akah began walking toward the door, his footsteps ringing sharply through the chamber. "Come. It's time for you to leave."

Hafa followed him, his feet heavy. He was eager to leave, but he wasn't quite sure what do once he was out.

"You're that confident that Rim will be found?"

"I believe if Aini is out there, he'll have the best chance," Sa'akah said thoughtfully. "He's always been sensitive to the mystical and unseen."

Just as the men emptied into the hall, a shrieking cry from above caused both of them to stop. Hafa glanced at the ceiling, looking around them; faintly, he could hear the beating of massive wings outside the palace walls.

Sa'akah frowned at the ceiling. "Someone has come for you, it seems."

.

.

.

He was unsure how long he'd been riding, but the sun was now perched above his left hand opposed to the right, and a cool evening breeze was beginning to blow.

There had been no sign of a specter, man nor dog; nothing as far as Aini could see, and he was beginning to wonder if he had been seeing things before. It was entirely possible, given all he had experienced earlier in the day. Even so, he could still feel the invisible tug pulling him from an unknown source, and it was this strong feeling that forced him to continue even though he had half a mind to turn back.

Finally, something besides sand and sky caught Aini's eye. He was coming up on a site littered with pieces of stone and wood. From afar it resembled an old grave site; the entire area seemed to exude an intense melancholy that supported this, and accompanying it, a strong nostalgia. Aini slowed his horse once they'd reached the site, dismounting. Though he didn't know why, his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst.

It appeared to be a ruined village, long forgotten and blanketed by sand. Aini tethered his horse to a decimated stone wall that had crumbled so badly one could no longer tell what it used to protect. As he walked among the burnt wreckage, stepping over charred remains of houses and wagons, he realized why he felt so discorded. It had been several years, but it wasn't easily forgotten. His feet knew their way around the village even after all this time.

Looking around, Aini was surprised how small the area looked. With the village gone and half-buried in sand, he could easily spot the Corys River and the far-off rolling dunes to the north without even moving from where he stood. His eyes following the river, Aini's breath caught in his throat. A large, twisted tree stood just where it always had, untouched by the fire and undisturbed by the elements. Standing next to the tree, looking up at it, was Rim.

Aini wanted to slap himself to prove he was really awake, but he couldn't move. He felt like a tree himself, rooted to the spot, his limbs made of heavy wood. He expected that when he finally saw Rim again, he would immediately be filled with relief and joyousness beyond imagination; the opposite proved to be true. He was terrified. If he moved, if he breathed too loudly, would Rim vanish? Would all of this turn out to be a dream if he tried calling out?

Perhaps feeling eyes on him, Rim turned, his hair and robe catching in the breeze. When their eyes met, Aini was positive his heart had stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a squeak tumbled out.

Rim's expression was unchanged, listless. A moment later he had turned back to face the tree. Aini's heart promptly deflated. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in, and now a new fear settled in him. Rim had looked right at him, he'd seen him, but instead of being elated he had merely looked disappointed.

"R-Rim!" Aini called, his voice trembling, his legs still immobile. He saw Rim start. A second time Rim turned, this time with the distinct look of someone who had just been abruptly awakened from a frightening dream. His eyes blown wide, he stared at Aini for some time in a shocked silence. Aini wondered if he'd looked like that just moments ago.

Rim stepped forward uncertainly, unblinking. "Aini…?"

Hearing Rim's voice seemed to break whatever spell had his legs locked. Without another thought Aini tore across the wreckage, his heart racing so fast his chest burned. Rim was too stunned to meet him but caught the boy in his arms; Aini clenched his fists in Rim's robes, his eyes filling with tears.

"Rim… _Rim_...!" Aini couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his sand-dusted cheeks, but he barely noticed them. It was really Rim. He looked the same as last Aini had seen him, though his lips were dry and cracked and his skin was tanned a handsome shade of brown, no longer the elegant pale complexion that came from years of living in the palace.

Rim said nothing for several moments, though his hands moved to touch Aini's cheek, his jaw, his lips and brush gently through his hair; when he seemed wholly convinced that the Aini in front of him was real, Rim's eyes shimmered with water.

"It's… really you…" Rim sobbed, barely above a whisper.

They embraced and cried. Aini never remembered crying so much, even after the village burned down. His shoulders heaved with heavy sobs, his face buried in Rim's chest to muffle his pitiful sounds. The two of them sank to their knees, neither one of them strong enough at present to support the other, and Rim tightened his hold around Aini's shoulders. He pressed his face against Aini's silver hair; he withheld a sob and struggled to speak.

"I saw you… so many times… it was never real. Not _once_..."

Aini gripped him more tightly. "I'm real," he sobbed into Rim's robes. "I promise I'm real…"

The two held each other for a time, weary from relief, overcome with happiness. Rim sighed shakily. "I still can't believe it… How did you find me?"

Wiping his face on his sleeve, Aini chuckled. "I don't really have an answer. I thought I saw someone far away, so I followed. I can't explain why I did it, but…" Despite his attempts to stop crying, hot tears continued to obscure his vision, and he quickly wiped them away. "...I'm so glad I did…" Rim sank back in the sand, exhausted, and Aini settled on his knees between Rim's thighs. "Are you okay?" he asked in sudden concern.

Rim smiled. "Yeah. I just… I'm still in shock, I think."

"I don't just mean that. We searched for you for so long… This whole time, you've been alone. Have you been eating? Staying cool? It must have been so hard, surviving out here all this time…!"

He had eaten something two days ago, though he barely remembered what it was, and he had grown so used to hunger pangs he no longer felt the pain in his stomach. Rim lacked the courage to tell Aini that he had expired twice since his time banished to the sands - once from starvation and once from freezing to death - both times having to endure the uncomfortable resurrection process. Telling Aini served no purpose now other than to upset him.

"I won't say it's been easy. How long was I gone?"

"About five months."

"Five months…" Rim mused, shaking his head. "It feels like it's been much, much longer."

Biting down on his bottom lip, Aini gently touched Rim's face, tracing his fingertips along his jaw. His vivid blue eyes wavered with water. "I'm _so_ sorry… it took us so long to find you…"

Beyond the Corys River the sun was dipping low in the sky, obscured behind a veil of sparse white clouds. The last light of day was funneling upwards in gentle hues of orange, casting long shadows over the village that bent and twisted as the light began to disappear. Rim kissed Aini just as the shadow from the giant tree swallowed them up.

It was like reliving their first kiss, awkward and clumsy, teeth knocking, but overwhelmingly warm and exciting. Aini felt younger, inexperienced, his stomach fluttering with an almost painful earnest. He wasn't sure if it was their time apart or if it was the fact that it was his first time kissing Rim without feeling that oppressive black mist behind Rim's shoulders. Whatever the reason, kissing Rim felt new and exhilarating.

Aini slid his arms over Rim's shoulders, emptying months worth of affection and longing into the kiss. Very quickly the tempo changed into something messy and desperate, Rim's fingers trailing through Aini's hair, Aini working to close the distance between their bodies by climbing into Rim's lap. As Aini opened his mouth to allow Rim's tongue passage, he realized hazily that he never remembered being kissed like this. Even in their most intimate moments he had never felt so desired, so needed. He was being kissed by the Rim he fell in love with.

Rim's hands found anchorage on Aini's slim hips, holding him firmly as his tongue trailed over Aini's and licked the boy's lips. Aini shuddered, responding with more vigor. His body was radiating more heat than the quickly fading sun, and it was growing harder to think clearly as the seconds ticked on with Rim's lips and tongue working together to draw every last breath from his lungs.

When finally they parted, panting and flushed, Rim spoke softly. "I'm sorry…"

It was only two words but Aini could barely understand them, his head felt so light and foggy. "Mm?"

Rim looked somewhat abashed. "I never got to tell you that I was sorry for how I treated you. You deserved so much better, you _still_ do-"

Aini covered Rim's mouth with his fingers. He was feeling far too content to listen to Rim's apologizes, or dwell on things that happened in the past. He realized that Rim's solitude these last months must have left him with lots of time to mull over his misdeeds and regrets, but Aini had never once blamed him for anything.

"I don't want anything other than you," Aini assured. "No one blames you for any of it. You saved Hafa's life, and you saved all of us, too. Hafa and the others told us everything that happened."

Rim flushed, this time in embarrassment. He absently scratched the back of his neck. "It wasn't like I had a lot of options at the time…" His eyes blew open with a sudden thought. "Wait, how is everyone? What happened after I… You know, died?" It was still a strange thing to say, after all this time.

Perhaps unconsciously, Aini placed a hand on Rim's chest, just over his heart, where he'd been told Rim had been gouged. "Everyone's fine. The palace is gone, though… It crumbled when Makarim put all the water back where it belonged." Aini's expression brightened. "It's been a little while since we've been back there, but everyone was just fine last we saw them."

"Ghazi?" Rim asked anxiously.

"She's been traveling with Hafa, Miss Maha and I, looking for you." Aini said. "She should be back at the city right now, unless Miss Maha has…" Aini trailed off and his breath caught in his throat, nearly making him choke. " _Shit_! I completely forgot!"

"Forgot what?" Rim asked, perking a brow.

" _Hafa_!" Aini cried, fisting the front of Rim's robes. "He was taken by giant eagles to a palace out in the middle of no where!"

Rim wasn't sure how to react, momentarily jarred by such a ridiculous statement. "He was _what_?"

Aini jumped to his feet, helping Rim to stand. "It sounds a little insane now that I've said it outloud, but we all saw it happen. Miss Maha was coming back to see if she could get Hafa out of there, but…" Aini drew his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced back the way he'd come. His horse was still tethered to the wall, nosing lazily through the sand. "It's gotten so late."

"Giant eagles, huh," Rim sighed. He scratched his nails through his hair. "How the hell did he get caught up in something like _that_?"

Aini glanced at Rim, his finger's seeking Rim's hand, which he gently clasped. "Are you angry at Hafa? For… You know… What he did? I mean, even though it saved you?"

Rim's gaze dropped to the ground, and his hand squeezed Aini's lightly. "No. Maybe I was for just a second when I was out there alone, only because my time out here has been so miserable. But after I reminded myself about what I put _him_ through…" Rim shook his head. "It really boils down to whether I want to be alive or dead, and for a while, I wasn't sure which one I preferred." His eyes found Aini's, and he smiled. "Everything feels different now, though. I never thought I'd ever see any of you ever again. I couldn't be this happy if I was dead."

Aini felt another rush of elation flow through him, and he nearly felt like he could cry again.

"You know how to get back to that palace, right? We should go and see if we can help. _Giant eagles_ , though… They must have been djinn."

"Ghuls," Aini nodded. "Miss Maha thinks Hafa will be okay, since he has Solomon's ring, but… It's still nerve-wracking." Aini glanced behind them at the sun, which had completely vanished, the moon vigilantly taking its place. The heat from the day was seeping away, leaving the sand cold as the air started to grow chilly. Aini sighed. "Soon it will be too cold to travel. There's plenty of wood… We should build a fire and rest for now."

Rim rubbed his bare arms. "That might be a good idea. Before you showed up, I was thinking of finding a way to get into our tree for the night."

Aini laughed nostalgically. "We're so much bigger than we used to be, we would never fit."

"Probably not," Rim admitted.

"I have two beds and plenty of food, too," Aini said. "If nothing else, we'll have a comfortable night."

The idea of a warm place to rest his head and fresh food nearly caused Rim's head to spin with disbelief. If felt like a lifetime since he'd been granted such comforts, especially since they had always come so easily to him before.

"We'll be warmer if we just share a bed, right?" Rim suggested with a grin. Aini's face flushed scarlet; he diverted his gaze purposefully toward his horse, starting off in that direction while impatiently pulling Rim's hand.

"L-let's get a fire set up, then," he stuttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...consider this chapter _“well, shit”_ part 2. Only for Hafa though. Aini and Rim are doing pretty okay right now. Better than expected.
> 
> I forgot to throw in some notes in the last chapter. I was too distracted by all the character lives I was ruining. 
> 
> **Ghul** : Shape-shifting djinn who are attracted to ruins and death. They prefer the form of hyenas, and enjoy tearing their victims to pieces. Generally considered assholes. They are the enemy of the Jann.
> 
>  **Palace without entrance** : The idea is from an ancient story called _“The Palace of the Eagles”_ or less frequently titled _“The Palace With no Entrance”_ that I had stumbled across a couple of times when researching King Solomon. I’ve read three different versions of it, all of them radically different aside from a few key elements. (One of them didn’t even name Solomon as the king in the story.) As it stands I can’t find an original source to the story. It’s credited as a ‘legend’.  
>  Like Sa’akah mentioned in the last chapter, the palace belonged to Shaddad, son of Ad, and despite his many triumphs and victories he could not avoid the inevitability of death. King Solomon and his men found the palace and were able to enter because of his magic ring, after having asked some ancient eagles where the entrance might be.  
> I’m taking ENORMOUS liberties with this story, to the point where it will be unrecognizable, (aside from the bit about Shaddad,) but I still felt it necessary to explain where I drew inspiration from. If you’re interested in reading a very, VERY Cliffs Note-y version of the legend yourself, here’s a vaguely kiddie version: [[X](http://www.professorsolomon.com/graphics/solomonandmysteriouspalace.pdf)] The dialogue is a little bit silly but it gives you the gist.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sa'akah shows off a trick, Reem and Najiya spy on the Sultan, and Hafa does some regretful things.

The hall would have been absolutely silent if it weren't for the harsh shrieks of eagles ringing loudly from outside. Hafa couldn't imagine which of his companions was foolish enough to try approaching the palace after all that had happened, but it didn't particularly matter; a cold chill of fear passed through him and he turned to confront Sa'akah, who was staring at the ceiling with a cool expression of indifference.

"Call them off!" he barked urgently. "They'll kill my friends!"

Sa'akah lowered his gaze and sighed. "Before you woke up I told them not to overreact to trespassers. They're aware of the situation. Though, that won't stop them from giving whomever that is a proper scare."

Hafa relaxed only slightly; having once been a djinn himself, he had every reason not to trust magical beings, especially more sadistic djinn such as the ghul.

"I thought we had a bit more time. The entrance to the palace is quite a walk from here, but seeing as how we have a concerned guest, I suppose it can't be helped." Sa'akah shifted his staff into his right hand and pressed his palm firmly into the curved top. Just under the wooden arch of the staff, a small bright blue ball of light blossomed into existence, resembling the orbs that were floating throughout the palace. Sa'akah turned his gaze onto Hafa.

"Keep calm and walk close to me," he ordered, and just as Hafa was preparing to ask what he meant, Sa'akah tapped his staff against the ground and the world around them broke apart and was flung away. Hafa inhaled breath as if he were being plunged into water, which is practically what it felt like; sound was muffled and heavy around his ears, and the world had become streaked and dim. Their surroundings looked vaguely like a painting that had been left out in the rain.

Hafa knew this place. His memories were foggy and distant but he could never forget the Other World. It felt wrong being here in a human body, but he was too surprised to dwell on his discomfort.

"How are you doing this?" Hafa asked breathlessly, looking around. "How is a human evoking the Other World?" His own voice sounded far away, as if he were projecting it from elsewhere. He thought he could remember a trick to control where his own sound came from, but for the moment he found himself too stunned to recall.

"It will only take a couple of steps to get outside. Stay close or you'll lose me," Sa'akah began walking, every step sending dilluded colors flying away in every direction. Hafa didn't hesitate to follow, not keen on the idea of getting lost in a place like this as he currently was.

"Answer my question!" Hafa said, unable to tear his eyes away from the world around them. Sa'akah was right, the world was crumbling. It looked vastly different from what he could remember, though he supposed it could have been because he was looking at it through a different pair of eyes.

Sa'akah lifted his staff, waving it. "Compliments of King Solomon. You're not the only one who possesses one of his artifacts."

"You mean, that's…?"

"The staff of Solomon, the very staff he was leaning on when he passed away. Since he won't be needing it anymore, I've been putting it to use."

Hafa didn't quite know what to say. He had never thought about other items belonging to Solomon, or the power they might have. How had Sa'akah even acquired something so powerful? Not even the Seal could enable it's owner to walk in the Other World. If the staff had always had the magical ability to allow humans into the world of djinn, how had he never heard of it before?

"What about djinn? They most likely sense that we're here."

"They don't bother me. What are you even worried about? You're wearing the infamous magic ring." Sa'akah stopped so suddenly that Hafa nearly ran into him. "We're outside. Only a second or so should have passed in the human world. Go and find your friends." Before Hafa could get in another word, Sa'akah tapped the staff once again and pulled his hand from the arch. The ball of light fizzled away, and the human world rained from above, replacing the Other World bit by bit until Hafa was once again immersed in it. It was a jarring return, one that used to feel so seamless and now felt a bit like falling out of a tree.

Sa'akah had stuck them on the East side of the palace, draped in massive shadows. Irritated that he had to now make his way around the entire structure, Hafa supposed Sa'akah had done that on purpose, so they wouldn't be seen suddenly blinking into existence from seemingly no where. Without so much as a thank you, Hafa urged his mildly shaking legs to move and took off across the sand, heading for the front of the palace.

The eagles were no longer shrieking; in fact, there was no more sound at all. Anxiety growing in his chest, Hafa pushed on, inwardly cursing the palace for being so large. Breaking the silence was a surprised yelp; Hafa knew that voice, but he was having a hard time accepting what he'd heard.

Hafa turned the corner, his lungs feeling fit to explode. The person he saw standing in front of the palace was the very last person he expected to see.

Talking heatedly to two human-form ghul was Makarim. Hafa stared at the scene, too overwhelmed to form words. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. After all he'd learned in the palace, he almost felt like Makarim was the very last person he wanted to see. At the same time, he felt so incredibly relieved to see him that he very nearly felt like he could cry. It was odd, wanting comfort from the same person you wanted to hide from.

Perhaps feeling eyes on him, Makarim turned, and when he caught sight of Hafa his entire demeanor changed. Looking close to tears himself, Makarim hurried to him, his turban flying off in his haste; Hafa would have met him halfway if he wasn't still desperately trying to catch his breath and keeping his legs from trembling.

" _Haru…_!" Makarim threw his arms around him, hugging him fiercely. Hafa buried his face in Makarim's chest, hugging him back with weak arms. He inhaled deeply, his mind swimming from how surreal everything felt. It was really Makarim. He could feel Makarim's shoulders shaking, and the taller man's hold on him intensified to an almost painful degree.

" _You're really okay_ …! I can't believe it… Haru, I was so worried… The eagles surprised me and then they turned into humans, so I asked them where you were, what they'd done with you… They wouldn't give me a straight answer, I…"

"Makarim, I'm fine." Hafa assured; Makarim's breathing hitched with a sob.

Makarim held him for a moment longer before pulling away with a sniffle; his eyes were pink and his face was flushed. "Are you really okay? The others told me that you'd been abducted…"

"I promise I'm fine," Hafa said, though he distinctly felt he was lying about that. Makarim held Hafa's shoulders gently in his hands, giving them a squeeze.

"What happened? Did you have to fight them off with the ring?"

Hafa shook his head. "No, it…" he trailed off, unsure of what to say. How could he explain everything that had happened? As if to relieve him of having to answer, Sa'akah appeared behind Makarim, the two ghuls flanking him.

"Makarim, is it?" Sa'akah asked, and Makarim turned, keeping a firm hold on Hafa.

It was clear within moments that every muscle in Makarim's body was on the immediate defense. "Who are you?" he demanded in a voice far harder than the one he was using with Hafa just moments before.

"I guess I'm the one who abducted your friend, and I apologize for that," Sa'akah answered. "My name is Sa'akah."

Makarim flashed Sa'akah a furious look. "Do you have _any idea_ how badly you scared all of us?" he snarled. "What do you want with Haru?"

Sa'akah took Makarim's scolding without batting an eye. "I wanted to speak with him about Rim."

In an instant, Makarim's expression turned rather blank, and he appeared to relax. "Rim?"

"Yes." Sa'akah's calm teal eyes shifted to Hafa fleetingly before regarding Makarim once again. "I believe Rim can be found by only one of your company. I needed to let him know before Rim could become any more lost than he already is."

Hafa disliked the way Sa'akah's eyes burned into him as he lied. Those eyes were asking him to lie, too. He expected Sa'akah didn't want the truth to be revealed, for Rim's sake. He didn't want Rim to know that he was fateless. Whether that was only to spare his feelings or out of hope that such a thing could be reversed, Hafa wasn't sure. At any rate, he didn't feel up to telling anyone the truth, either. He couldn't stand lying to Makarim, but admitting everything he'd learned about himself sounded just as horrible.

"How do you know all of that?" Makarim asked Sa'akah curiously.

"I have many reasons for thinking so."

"Who is the 'one' to find him, then?"

"I believe it's Aini."

Makarim turned to Hafa, eyes wide. "Haru, do you believe him?"

A sour feeling crawling into his gut, Hafa nodded. "I think he knows what he's talking about."

His mouth pulling into a happy smile, Makarim yanked Hafa into another hug. "If that's true, that's _wonderful_! If Aini can find Rim… Just _imagine_! We can all go back to the city, and everything can finally go back to normal!"

Something constricted tightly in Hafa's chest. He felt sick. Makarim was embracing a dead body. A fateless person. All around them, the world was falling to pieces and he couldn't even see it. How could Hafa possibly keep all of this to himself? How could he be expected to lie to Makarim and everyone else?

Perhaps noticing his unresponsiveness, Makarim pulled away once again, his hand cupping Hafa's cheek.

"Haru… Is everything alright?"

Mutely, Hafa nodded. He could still feel Sa'akah's eyes burning him from behind Makarim's head.

"Night will be falling soon," Sa'akah pointed out. "You're both welcome to stay in the palace and wait for your friends to return."

The suggestion made Hafa's skin crawl. Makarim looked as if he'd just remembered something important. "Ah, that's right! Aini was supposed to be here, Miss Maha told me he'd stayed behind to wait…"

"It's likely he's either heading toward Rim or he'd already found him," Sa'akah said.

"I hope he's alright..." Makarim said anxiously. "As for us, ahh…" Turning to regard Hafa for a moment, Makarim appeared to make his decision quickly and easily. "Thank you for the offer, but we have our own sleeping accommodations. Would you mind if we made camp near the palace to wait for Aini?"

"Not at all." Sa'akah glanced at the ghul who were whispering behind him. "You two. Keep watch tonight, keep me updated if you see anyone traveling this way."

"Blah blah blah, servitude stuff again."

"Yes _sir_. We'll be the best darn guards you've ever seen, even if that's the _most boring thing I've ever heard of_."

After making a sufficient amount of obscene gestures the two of them disappeared, taking the familiar form of eagles and flying off toward the towers of the palace, their massive wings sending sand flying in every direction. Sa'akah was already making his way toward the palace without so much as a goodnight, untroubled by the rolling sheets of sand.

Hafa and Makarim watched him until he was out of sight. As the sun lowered in the sky behind them, Makarim kept his eyes glued to the palace. "He's a mysterious guy. How does he know all of that stuff about Rim?"

Hafa wasn't sure what information he was allowed to tell, but he didn't care to honor any kind of trust with Sa'akah. He knew - and he supposed Sa'akah knew it, too - that he was unable to relay most of the things he'd learned because he couldn't bear to admit them. Sa'akah never expected Hafa to keep a promise with him. Hafa's shame was far better at keeping secrets than any promise.

"Like he said, he knows a lot about curses."

"Even so, how did he even know about Rim to begin with, let alone figure out which person could break his curse?"

Hafa looked down at his feet. "He and Rim grew up in the same village. He also got some information from Siraj al Din."

Makarim whirled on the spot, grasping Hafa's upper arm. "Siraj al Din? Where is he?"

"He doesn't know, but Siraj al Din is looking for his younger brother. We met him earlier…"

"Mumyi, right? He's back at the city with Ghazi and everyone else. We were hoping to find Siraj al Din all this time, and we ended up finding his brother instead, huh?" Makarim inhaled a deep breath. "This has been a very strange day."

Hafa agreed with that sentiment wholeheartedly. Makarim gently touched the side of Hafa's face.

"Haru… I can't tell you how happy I am to see you…"

A flicker of longing rose within Hafa, and he closed his eyes, allowing the warm feeling of Makarim's hand to overtake his senses. "I never expected to see you here…" Hafa admitted softly. "Miss Maha brought you…?"

Makarim hummed an affirmative. "She should be back soon. She was in bad shape… I pressured her into bringing me along, but she still needed some time to sleep it off."

Hafa sighed. "I'm glad she's okay."

"Me too." Makarim glanced around, finally spotting Hafa's camel some ways away from the palace, grazing. "Let's set up camp before it gets any darker, yeah? You must be exhausted."

.

.

.

It wasn't a particularly good night for spying. There was barely a cloud in the sky to conceal the light of the moon, and Reem's only good vantage point was from the roof of the weaver's shop on the outer edge of town. Even so, he assumed he wouldn't be noticed given the considerable distance between the city and the Sultan's camp.

"Are they doing anything?" Najiya asked, lying on his side behind Reem. His tone sounded vaguely bored; Reem realized he'd been sitting up here for over two hours, watching the distant campsite.

"Not yet," Reem admitted, his gaze unwavering. Najiya sighed.

"It's getting _cold_ , Reem. Let's go back to the house and get cozy in bed!"

In no way was Najiya playing fair, and Reem knew immediately that he had lost by the way his face flushed and his stomach constricted into an earnest knot.

"Just a few more minutes, I promise." Reem said apologetically, looking away from the sand dunes to view Najiya's pouting face. As a peace offering, Reem extended his arm toward the blonde, beckoning him over. "I _promise_. Come here, warm up."

Najiya easily accepted, crawling up beside Reem and allowing him to drape his arm over his shoulders, pulling him in close. Najiya rested his head on Reem's shoulder, watching the campsite.

"So, what do you think they're up to? What are you waiting for?"

"I'm not really sure," Reem admitted, letting out a sigh. "If their purpose was to come here and speak to a leader of some kind, what did the Sultan want to discuss? Why is he still here?"

"Maybe they just needed a rest. After all, they came a long way for nothing." Najiya suggested, nuzzling Reem's shoulder.

"That's what has me worried. What if they didn't come for nothing? What if they're merely taking time to change their tactics?" Reem glanced at Najiya with furrowed brows. "Weren't you more concerned about this earlier? Don't you remember how rude the Sultan was to you?"

Najiya hummed. "Makarim said something before he left, remember? 'No city this size was ever taken by a mere fifteen men'. And it's true, isn't it?"

"Well…"

"He put me at ease when he said that, I guess. And besides…" Najiya heaved a large sigh; his breath came out in a visible puff, reminding Reem of how cold it was becoming, "...I'm more worried about Makarim and Haru than anything else right now."

Reem frowned, holding Najiya a little tighter. "I'm worried about them too." A pause, and then: "Let's go home. I suppose staring at their camp all night won't help anything-"

"Wait, Reem," Najiya was suddenly pointing toward the camp, his gaze focused and wide-eyed. "Look! Look, look!"

Reem followed Najiya's gaze, frowning. If the moon hadn't been so bright, he wondered if he would have even seen the single black horse and his rider leaving the campsite, galloping South with haste.

"Where is he going?" Najiya asked quietly.

Both rider and horse disappeared from view, the flag of Sama Al-Kah flying high on the saddle. Reem chewed his lip in consideration.

"They're likely sending a man back to the Kingdom to relay a message."

Najiya's large magenta eyes glimmered with clear fear. "What, you mean like for back-up?"

Reem pulled Najiya closer, staring down the campsite. It was more than likely a request for more men, or an alert to the rest of the Kingdom that their city had no leader, and by extension, no one to protect it. Either way, Reem smelled foul play. The city was just managing to get back on its feet after the djinn attack that Sharik unleashed; they were in no fit state to defend themselves against an army. He hoped he was overreacting, but he had a terrible feeling he wasn't.

.

.

.

As night fell and Hafa and Makarim managed to erect their tent, Miss Maha appeared in her mouse guise, relieved that neither man had been harmed. She was well enough to hold a physical form, but decided to take the rest of the night to heal after she'd heard the abridged version of everything that had transpired while she was away. She promised to return in the morning, when hopefully she could take not only Hafa and Makarim back to the city, but Rim and Aini as well.

As Makarim was rolling out their bedding for the night, Hafa spoke.

"Thank you for coming here." he said softly. Makarim halted, looking over at Hafa with a surprised expression. "It was stupid though, wasn't it? If things hadn't gone the way they had, you could have been killed. You didn't even have a weapon on you." Not that a weapon would have helped.

Makarim smiled and laid out the second bedroll. "I do a lot of stupid things, it seems." he mused. "I'm sorry."

Hafa shook his head. "You don't have to apologize. I just worry about how easily you risk your own safety..." ... _for someone who isn't worth saving_. Hafa couldn't stop the constant stream of poisonous thoughts from leaking into his brain. He'd never known this level of mental revolt.

"I can't help it if it's for someone I care about," Makarim said, sitting back on one of the bedrolls. A single lantern illuminated the tent, throwing flicking, dim orange light over Makarim's form. He brushed a hand through his sandy colored hair. "You've been pretty reckless in the past too, haven't you?"

"I didn't worry about dying back then," Hafa pointed out.

"Would that stop you now? What if Aini had been picked up by the eagles, or Ghazi?"

Hafa frowned and looked away. He didn't feel it was necessary to answer. Now more than ever he realized how much he cared for everyone. If his death could really save everyone, he had to die. There was no other alternative. He wasn't a champion of the land or a savior of humans… He didn't care about the rest of the world. He couldn't even if he tried. He cared about Rim, Reem, Najiya, Aini, Ghazi, Ren and Ran, Miss Maha… Makarim. He knew he would do anything to keep all of them safe.

"Haru? Are you okay?" When Hafa's eyes met Makarim's, the man looked concerned. "I was only teasing you a little…"

Hafa shook his head. "It's not that. Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?" Makarim asked gently. "I know you said nothing bad happened… Did Sa'akah say or do anything that upset you?"

Hafa's stomach burned with the threat of incoming lies. "No."

"...Ah, I see."

A silence fell over the tent. Hafa had never felt so ashamed to be in his own skin. Perhaps that was the problem. The skin didn't belong to him, and Makarim still didn't know that. Furthermore, he had no idea how to tell Makarim such a thing. Did he even have the right to be with Makarim anymore? He wasn't supposed to exist. His connection to Makarim had been severed. Had Makarim's ribbon of fate tied itself to someone else? Was _that_ person the person he was meant to be with now?

He had gotten complacent. Mortality was acceptable so long as Makarim was there. The thought of dying was suddenly a terrifying and lonely one. He wanted to live. Every bone and fiber in his body was working in unison to keep him alive. It was this mortal fragility that instilled such a will to live within him, but his brain was choosing death. He had to die. He wanted to live. He had to die.

"Haru?"

When Hafa pulled himself out of his thoughts, Makarim was in front of him, strong hands braced on his shoulders, emerald eyes full of concern. Something wild and exciting overcame Hafa so quickly he left no time to consider his actions; his mouth met Makarim's in a feverish frenzy of kissing, prying the man's mouth open with his tongue and hungrily exploring his mouth. Makarim lurched back in surprise, hands still anchored on Hafa's shoulders, a startled cry stuck in his throat that was quickly swallowed up by Hafa's seeking mouth.

Hafa eagerly wormed himself between Makarim's legs, pressing the man gently onto his back. He kissed him until he thought his lungs might explode, and even then he didn't stop until Makarim pulled away with a gasp, his cheeks rosy, peering at Hafa through half-lidded eyes.

"Wh - what's gotten into you?"

"I want you to fuck me," Hafa said in a low voice, unbothered by the bluntness of the request. Makarim's eyes widened.

"Haru...!"

"You don't want to?" Hafa ground his hips urgently against Makarim's groin; he let out a pleasured gasp from the sensation.

"It isn't that…" Makarim groaned as Hafa started kissing the sensitive spot he remembered just under his ear, "it's... just… I didn't bring any oil, or anything..."

"Have you missed me?" Hafa murmured against his neck.

Makarim nodded without hesitation. "I was… losing my mind…"

"I missed you too," Hafa breathed, and kissed Makarim's hot mouth again. He bucked at Makarim's groin a second time, feeling the growing hardness pressing against him. He pulled away to regard his lover, his eyes hungry. "Makarim, fuck me."

Nothing more needed to be said. Makarim eagerly grabbed at Hafa's scarf and shirt, helping Hafa to hastily remove them. In moments both men had removed their clothes in a flurry of cloth and metal; they sat with their hips flush, Makarim's hardened length resting firmly against the crevice of Hafa's ass, his tongue fervently exploring Hafa's chest. Hafa ground his hips into Makarim's, eager for the stimulation, his own cock pressed snugly against Makarim's toned stomach. He wanted release. He wanted Makarim to pound into him. He wanted to forget everything outside of the tent, if only for a few minutes. He wanted to feel _alive_. He ground his hips down again, and Makarim responded by taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking.

Hafa tossed his head back, his brain feeling as though it were lost to the Other World. Everywhere Makarim touched felt amazing. The tent was chilly but their skin was red hot, creating a strangely erotic sensation that was driving Hafa to frenzy. He clawed at Makarim's back, Makarim's tongue leaving a trail of saliva from one puckered bud to the other.

"Makarim… _haah_ , I need it, please… please…" Perhaps in anticipation, Makarim's cock twitched against Hafa's crack, making Hafa shiver. Makarim removed his mouth from Hafa's chest, looking him in the eye. His expression was glazed with arousal but it was clear he was still coherent enough to be concerned about what they were about to attempt. They had never made love without the aid of oil before.

"Open your mouth," Makarim prompted gently, and Hafa closed his eyes and obeyed, welcoming two of Makarim's fingers in. As Makarim worked his fingers in Hafa's mouth, Hafa made himself useful by wrapping his tongue around the digits, coating them liberally with saliva. He wasn't sure if spit was good enough to ease the entry, but he didn't care either way. He wanted to be filled. He wanted the blissful feeling of complete thoughtlessness, lost in pleasure or pain it didn't matter.

Makarim withdrew his fingers and slid his hand to Hafa's ass. Kissing Hafa's neck, he eased the first finger in; a choke of discomfort caught in Hafa's throat, and Makarim immediately pulled away, eyes fearful. Before he could even ask, Hafa shook his head, lips parted in a moan. "I'm fine… Keep going."

For several moments Makarim prepared him until he could easily slip three of his fingers inside; when he was content, Makarim pulled his fingers out and Hafa nimbly shifted in Makarim's lap and slid down between his legs, taking the man's cock into his mouth. Makarim gasped in surprise, fingers tangling in Hafa's hair.

"N- not too much, I'm already too turned on…"

Hafa licked up the length of Makarim's cock and encompassed the organ in his mouth once more, getting it as slick as possible before pulling his head away. He couldn't wait any longer, and he knew Makarim couldn't, either.

Hafa once again straddled him, positioning himself just over the bulbous head of Makarim's cock. With a grunt he lowered himself onto it, thighs spread so that they could both clearly view their lewd connection; the head slipped in and Hafa stopped abruptly as he involuntarily tensed around the intruding length. He let out a breath, willing himself to loosen up. It _hurt_. Saliva helped but only enough to ensure the experience wasn't entirely excruciating; still, he craved this feeling. The pain was proof that he was alive. It was proof that he was here with Makarim, and for a moment, he existed. He was loved.

" _Aah…_ Hafa'ma… are you… okay? If it hurts too much…"

"I'm fine," Hafa said, pointedly lowering himself further, sucking in Makarim's cock until he was firmly seated in his lap. He let out a gasping moan, his insides burning, his body shaking. "Fuck me as hard as you can… please..."

Any reservations Makarim might have had were flung away at Hafa's words. Clutching Hafa's back and seizing his lips in a kiss, Makarim bucked his hips, thrusting into his lover with force. Hafa moaned into his mouth, the feeling of Makarim's cock sliding in almost more than he could handle. Still, he wanted more. He wanted this friction, this searing hot feeling of pain and pleasure. If his mouth had been free, he might have begged for more. Makarim didn't need to be told; he thrust again, harder, again, faster, until the two of them developed a satisfactory rhythm. Their mouths broke apart so that they might breathe; Hafa hung onto Makarim's broad shoulders, wrapping his legs around his lover as he was pistoned into, feeling alive, so incredibly alive.

Without warning, Makarim grabbed Hafa's ass and picked him up as easily as if he were made of air, laying him down on the bedding behind them. Setting Hafa's ankles on his shoulders, he continued the onslaught, his hand seeking out Hafa's leaking cock and stroking it firmly in time with his thrusts. Hafa's hands sought for fistfuls of the blankets, badly needing something to hang onto as Makarim pounded the thoughts out of his brain.

Panting cries escaped Hafa's lips as Makarim angled his hips up, sweat shining on his brow.

" _Hafa'ma… Hafa'ma…._ "

Gasping Hafa's name as if it were the air in his lungs, Makarim leaned forward, catching Hafa's mouth in another sloppy kiss. Hafa eagerly twined his arms around Makarim's neck, pulling him in, wrapping his legs around the man's waist to drive him deeper still. Hafa might have forgotten his own name had Makarim not been chanting it, the sensation was so overwhelming; pain and pleasure blended together in a satisfying way as they carried on, their rapid lovemaking reaching a fever pitch.

Makarim came first and Hafa followed close behind, the feeling of fullness coupled with Makarim's strokes bringing him to a shattering orgasm. The two of them held each other, shaking and panting, waiting to come back down to earth, neither of them fit to form words. As the pleasure faded and clarity returned, Hafa was immediately crushed with shame. What exactly had he just done? He ignored his true feelings and used Makarim's body to pity himself, to stop thinking. It worked, if only for a few minutes, but now he felt worse than before. He'd lied to Makarim with both his words and his body. Hafa was sickened with himself.

Makarim brushed some damp hair away from Hafa's face, kissing him gently.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, looking into Hafa's eyes for clarification. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Hafa could barely hold his gaze. "No. I knew it would be a different experience, I was prepared."

Makarim smiled vaguely apologetically. "I'm glad. When I heard you talking like that, I got a little over-zealous."

Hafa flushed, glancing away. Remembering what he said was embarrassing, especially now that he was questioning his actions. Was it wrong to want to feel alive through something like sex? If Makarim knew, would he be hurt or would he tell him it was normal? Hafa wasn't sure. He hadn't yet put much thought into the reasons humans partake in recreational sex, nor had he considered his own reasons for having sex with Makarim. He wanted to be with him. He loved him, and from that emotion sprouted a desire to copulate with him. If that was the case, was it wrong to have sex with Makarim in order to feel better about himself?

"Hafa'ma…" Makarim looked at him again with that knowing expression; Hafa was positive Makarim knew something was wrong. "...are you sure you're okay? I know I keep asking, and you keep saying everything's fine… but…"

Without a word Hafa leaned forward, kissing Makarim tenderly. A silent apology for being untruthful, for being so unsure of himself and for making him worry in any way. Makarim kissed him back, holding his face in his hands, accepting the apology though he didn't know why.

"I'm fine," Hafa said softly as he pulled away. "I love you."

"Hafa'ma…" Makarim lowered his head, resting it on Hafa's shoulder. "I love you too."

.

.

.

Despite how utterly exhausted he was, Hafa slept fitfully and rose early. Dressing himself quietly so as not to wake Makarim, Hafa left the tent, immediately mourning the loss of his keffiyeh as the wind whipped at his face and blew sand into his mouth. Covering his nose and mouth with his scarf, Hafa searched the horizon for any signs of Aini or Rim. The only sign of life he could see was his camel, and looking back at the palace Hafa could only just make out the forms of giant eagles perched on the palace's tallest tower. They were still serving as lookouts, it seemed.

Hafa contemplated climbing back into the tent and staying with Makarim until he woke; somehow, he couldn't stomach it. He still felt sick with himself for his actions the previous night, and Sa'akah's words were still spinning around in his head. Now that he'd gotten some sleep, however, he felt he could process the information more efficiently. He realized there were many things he didn't ask Sa'akah, _couldn't_ ask him, and now that he'd had time to think it all over, he felt it necessary to say his piece. Perhaps later he could try talking with Sa'akah again, though the idea made his stomach squirm.

He needed to clear his head. He remembered the crystal clear stream just next to the village he'd been effectively flung out of the previous day; nothing helped sort out his troubles quite like water, and he was sure he could stay far enough away from the village so as not to be seen. Hafa started North. He would try and return before Makarim woke up, when hopefully he'd be in better spirits.

.

.

.

"So you're saying this kid - Mumyi - he's the little brother of Siraj al Din?"

Aini nodded, pulling gently on the reins to slow his horse. "When you see him, you'll know it immediately. The resemblance is uncanny."

Rim shifted behind Aini uncomfortably. It had been a long time since he'd ridden a horse, and although it hadn't been an especially long ride so far, he was beginning to get sore. "Siraj al Din never mentioned a brother."

"I know. I've been thinking about that, too." Aini sighed, pulling his keffiyeh to more securely protect his nose and mouth as the wind picked up. "After your palace disappeared and everything, Siraj al Din told us he had something he needed to go do. We tried asking him what it was, if we could help, anything. He told us that he had remembered something important right after the palace vanished, when everyone else in the city had their memories altered to forget about the palace."

"You're thinking he remembered his brother?" Rim asked.

"Maybe. I spoke with Mumyi alone after he used his jewel to get us out of danger. Mumyi told me he and his brother got separated when he was just a little boy, and Siraj al Din never came back for him. He assumed he was dead for years, until he met us. That was all he would tell me… He seemed reluctant to say anything else."

"If it isn't one damn thing, it's another," Rim sighed. "Well, at least we know why Siraj al Din took off."

"Now we just have to find him and reunite him with his brother. Maybe Mumyi knows places we can try searching." Aini glanced back at Rim, eyebrows upturned. "Are you comfortable?"

"Is that a trick question?" Rim asked irritably. "My ass hurts, but other than that I'm fine. How much longer?"

"Not too much longer now. I think we're getting close."

As Aini predicted, the palace came into view several minutes later. Aini yanked on the reins and brought them to a dead stop, waiting for Rim to dismount before hopping off himself.

"So what's the plan?" Rim asked, rubbing his backside. "Do we have a plan?"

"Not as much of a plan as I would like," Aini admitted, holding his chin in his hand. "I suppose the best way to go about it would be to stay low, stay alert and look for any signs of life."

"And watch out for giant eagles, maybe." Rim put in. He squinted at the palace, shielding his eyes against the sun with his hand. "Did you set up a tent yesterday?"

"What?" Aini followed his gaze, eyes narrowed to slits and then widening. "Ah - a tent! I bet Miss Maha came back for Haru! He must be okay!"

"Think they're waiting for you, then?" Rim asked.

"Let's go. We should still keep an eye out, though."

"Right, right."

The two of them started out over the sand, Aini holding tight to his horse's reins, his sharp eyes trained on the palace. It wasn't long before they were close enough to get a better view of the tent - it was undoubtedly Haru's tent, Aini said - and they could make out a figure standing just outside the tent flap, looking as though he had lost something.

"Is that _Makarim_?" Rim asked.

Aini opened his mouth to answer and a squeak tumbled out. They had been so distracted by Makarim and the tent they hadn't noticed the giant bird silhouettes overhead until the creatures were descending on them, massive wings spread wide, talons shining threateningly in the sunlight.

"Aini-!" Tackling the stunned silver-haired boy to the ground, Rim and Aini rolled just out of the eagle's grip. The frantic flapping of wings marked the eagle's change in direction; Rim could tell they were turning around. Jumping to his feet and spitting out a mouthful of sand, Rim pulled Aini up roughly. As he was deciding which way to flee, Makarim's voice rang loudly over the sand.

" _RIM_! Rim, Aini, it's okay! It's okay, don't run off!"

Momentarily jarred by Makarim's voice as the man ran towards them, arms waving over his head, Rim stopped, Aini's arm still gripped tightly in his hand. He turned back towards the eagles, expecting to see the giant birds attempting a second attack; instead he saw two bored-looking young men standing in the sand, glowering at him. Makarim caught up to them, panting harshly.

"Rim! I can't believe… it… _haah…_ And Aini, I'm… glad you're okay…"

"Makarim, what are you even _doing_ here?" Aini asked, glancing worriedly back at the two strangers. "And who are _they_?"

Still trying to catch his breath, Makarim waved a hand dismissively. "Later… _haah…_ " He flashed a stern look at the two young men. " _You two_ …! What's the point in scaring them half to death? You were supposed to be lookout, remember?"

The tawny-haired man narrowed his thin eyes at Makarim. "That's what we were doing!" he exclaimed indignantly.

The dark-haired man scratched the back of his head. "We were going to grab them before they could run off."

Makarim sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Why would they run off unless they were being _chased_?"

"You humans get so bothered by specifics," the tawny-haired man said scornfully.

Shaking his head, Makarim turned back to Rim and Aini, his mouth widening in a smile. "You really _did_ find him! I can't believe this, everyone is going to be so happy! Rim, we were all so worried!"

Tearing his eyes away from the disgruntled djinn, Rim smiled. "Sorry I was gone for so long." he said with a chuckle. Makarim clamped his hands down on Rim's shoulders, looking almost like he could cry.

"Don't apologize, I'm just glad you've been found! This is amazing… After what happened… I..." Makarim pulled a hand away to wipe at his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm just really happy to see you here in one piece…"

Rim put his own hand on Makarim's shoulder, drawing a surprised look from the other man. "Thanks for being so concerned. And for everything else that happened back at the palace, too."

Makarim smiled, nodded, and wiped away fresh tears. After taking a short moment to compose himself, he let out a calming breath. "I can't wait until Haru sees you…"

"So Haru's okay?" Aini asked quickly. "He's been rescued?"

"As it turns out, he didn't really need any rescuing to begin with," Makarim explained with a smile. "Someone named Sa'akah wanted to talk to him about you. These two ghuls are rather fond of stealing people away in dramatic displays, it seems."

Both Rim and Aini fell into an immediate and profound silence. The shock hit them both like a wall, suffocating and confusing; Rim turned to Aini to confirm that he'd heard what he had, and Aini stared back with an expression almost as incredulous as when they'd seen each other in the charred remains of their village.

Finally, Rim spoke. "Did you say _Sa'akah_?"

Makarim's mouth formed a surprised 'o'. "That's right! Sa'akah grew up in your village, didn't he? So, uhh…" Realizing his mistake, Makarim winced. "You _did_ know he was alive... didn't you?"

Without warning, Rim's hand shot out and he grabbed a handful of Makarim's thawb. "You're _sure_ his name was Sa'akah?" he asked, pale from shock. Makarim nodded, placing a hand over Rim's in a calming gesture.

"He somehow knew that Aini would be the one to find you. I'm not sure if he lives there or not, but he should be in the palace, if you'd like to talk to him…" Makarim glanced at the two ghuls who were busy chatting amongst themselves. "Right? They can find Sa'akah in that palace?"

The dark-haired ghul rolled his eyes. "That's where we were planning on taking them, before you rudely interrupted."

"Rude," the other agreed.

Rim's hand went limp and he released Makarim, wobbling a bit on his feet. Aini grabbed his arm and Makarim kept a firm hold on his hand to ensure he wouldn't fall over.

"I'm fine…" Rim muttered, embarrassed for their concern.

"You two really didn't know he was alive?" Makarim asked. Aini shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

"We thought we were the only ones who made it out." he admitted. His pale blue eyes swept in the direction of the palace. "Is Sa'akah really in there? _Our_ Sa'akah?"

Rim followed Aini's gaze. "It can't be possible, can it?"

Makarim patted Rim gently on the shoulder. "How about you both go and see for yourselves? It's been so long since all of you have seen each other, I'm sure he really wants to see you too."

"What about Haru?" Aini asked quietly.

"Honestly, I don't know where he's run off to," Makarim explained with a chuckle. "I was going to try finding him at the stream down by that village to the North. While I'm looking, you two should go talk to Sa'akah."

" _Finally_ ," moaned the tawny-haired ghul. "Can we get a move on, in that case?" As he spoke, his human form expanded and contorted into a giant eagle, followed closely by his companion.

"We'll follow you by horse," Rim said decisively, conferring with Aini with a simple glance and a returned head nod. "We don't need to be carried, or anything like that."

The darker eagle shrugged its wings. "Suit yourself." it said, taking to the sky with a single beat of its massive wings, its lighter counterpart following behind. Despite the fact that their limbs still felt weighted down by invisible burdens, Rim and Aini said their brief goodbyes to Makarim, mounted their horse and made their way toward the palace.

.

.

.

The village was farther away than Makarim originally thought. From up where the palace sat, it seemed like a rather short trek; once he'd made his way down the sandy slopes, he realized his mistake. An optical illusion, he figured. Still, he was sure Haru would be there. The shining stream of water that wound around the village seemed to be the only body of water in the area, so it was a safe bet Haru was there already.

At the thought, Makarim's heart sank. He wasn't a fool - something had been bothering Haru deeply, so deeply that he couldn't bring himself to talk about it. What could have happened to make him so mute? Makarim had planned on talking with him about it in the morning when the shock of the previous day had time to wear off, but he'd already left without a trace. Makarim wasn't worried so much as he was hurt. What sort of problem could be comforted by Haru's beloved water but not his lover? Was Makarim really so useless to him?

Makarim reprimanded himself immediately. Of _course_ Haru didn't think he was useless. He was overreacting. It was more likely that Haru simply didn't know how to explain what was troubling him. Makarim knew better than anyone how difficult it was for Haru to express himself.

A familiar heat rose into Makarim's chest, stopping him in his tracks. Next came the pain, so intense this time that he lost his balance, dropping to his knees. The pressure in his chest and back was so much worse than usual, it felt as though it might crush his ribs. Taking gasping breaths, Makarim grabbed at his chest through his shirt, struggling to breathe. He'd never had one this bad before. And it was so sudden - usually he could feel an attack coming on minutes or seconds before they happened, but today he'd gotten no warning.

If he focused hard enough, Makarim thought he could hear hissing in his ears, as if someone were trying to whisper to him. He strained to listen, the sickening warmth and discomfort making his head swim. His surroundings began to fade away, replaced with oppressive blackness. The whispering grew in volume, overwhelming his senses.

" _Useless. You are useless."_

Makarim couldn't reply. He was sure his lungs were going to wither and die. It felt as though invisible hands were grasping his heart, strangling it. Why was this happening?

" _You can't help him. He thinks you're useless. No, he_ knows _you are_."

"Sh- shut... up…" Makarim struggled to purge the voice from his mind, his breath coming in short bursts. It wasn't true. No matter what, he couldn't believe something like that.

" _What can you do for him? How could you possibly understand someone like him_?"

The voice sounded as though it was speaking directly into his ears. Makarim tried covering his ears but it did nothing. It was coming from inside. Inside.

" _Just give up and die_."

Was it true? Just how much did he really know about Haru? Maybe he didn't know anything at all…

" _You're useless. Useless. Useless. Useless_."

Makarim couldn't see anything anymore. There was only the pressure and the pain and the words streaming through his brain in a constant cycle. He couldn't escape. He tried to push the words from his mind and think of Haru, think of anything else, but it was impossible. Useless. Useless. Useless. He could hear nothing else.

As Makarim's consciousness faded, he could still hear the voice as clearly as though it were right beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that I changed the rating from Mature to Explicit. There's going to be a bit more sex in it than I thought from this point on, at least that's what I currently have planned, so I thought a change of rating was appropriate. Slutty Haru is going to be the death of me I love it so much. ~~I also apparently have a kink for making Makoto suffer.~~
> 
> Big reunion in the next chapter, and some Reigisa lovin'.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rim and Aini reunite with Sa'akah, Hafa and Makarim have their first fight, and Hafa meets someone who appears to know him.

"You have so many books!"

With his hands clutched at his chest as though he were afraid to touch anything, Aini closely inspected the piles of books on Sa'akah's table, starry-eyed. Sa'akah sighed and plopped down on his bed.

"I guess so."

"Can you _really_ read all of them, Sa'akah?" Aini asked the boy in wonder. As was typical for their class and upbringing, neither he nor Rim could read, so he couldn't help but find it fascinating that their precious friend could.

"I can't read all of them yet, but I've read most of them." Sa'akah took note of Aini's yearning expression and he smiled. "It's not like they're fragile or anything, you can touch them if you want to."

Beaming with happiness, Aini looked over the tomes and carefully picked one up, smoothing his hand over the cover. "What's this one about?"

"It's just a bunch of boring poems. My dad started teaching me with that one, when I was really little."

"Your father really loves poetry, doesn't he?" Aini hummed with a warm smile.

"His father was a poet, so I guess it's only natural." Sa'akah answered.

Aini opened the book and began flipping through the pages, looking over the words although he couldn't read them. Slowly, his smile began to fade until finally he shut the book, setting it gently back on the table.

"Is it really true that Rim is leaving?" the boy asked in a small voice.

A pronounced silence fell over the bedroom. Sa'akah stared at Aini in surprise, his brain furiously trying to think of the best way to reply. When nothing profound came to him, he merely nodded.

"Because of his father?" Aini continued, looking close to tears. Sa'akah cleared his throat and nodded again.

"Did Rim tell you?"

It was Aini's turn to nod, and he took a moment to scrub his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "I was… kind of hoping he was just teasing me…"

Out of newly formed habit, Sa'akah clutched his wrist, fingers curling around the bracelet Rim had given him. As Aini continued to wipe at his eyes, Sa'akah noticed a similar bracelet wrapped around Aini's left wrist.

"He wasn't teasing. I don't think he would joke about something that serious."

Aini sniffed. "No… I guess not…"

Too awkward to continue sitting across the room while Aini was in such clear distress, Sa'akah stood, taking a few steps toward the table. He wasn't too good at consoling emotional people, so he was unsure of what to say. "His father's really sick, so it just can't be helped."

To his surprise, Aini flashed him a severe look, his large, pale blue eyes brimming with tears. "Are you really content with that?" the boy demanded. "'It just can't be helped'? Rim is leaving and that's what you have to say about it?"

Sa'akah felt a flare of pain emerge from deep within. He hadn't been expecting Aini to snap at him, and he allowed his pride to dictate his reaction. "What else _can_ I say?" he asked hotly. "I don't want him to go anymore than you do! But what can _we_ do about it?"

He hadn't meant to sound quite so angry, but Aini's words had poked the wound that had appeared when Rim first told him. He felt helpless. He knew Aini was feeling the same. They both wanted to help their friend but they couldn't do anything. All they could do was button down their feelings and enjoy their last days with Rim knowing that soon, they weren't to see him ever again.

"I…" Aini's resolve shattered and he dissolved into tears, hiding his face in his hands. "I'm sorry… I just… I don't want him or Ghazi to leave!" he cried, sobbing softly into his hands. Sa'akah's irritation faded away upon seeing his friend in such a pitiful state.

Sa'akah approached the crying boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I know… I don't want them to leave either."

"I want us to keep playing together like we always do!" Aini continued, voice muffled and punctuated with sobs. "It isn't fair!"

"Aini," Sa'akah gently took Aini's hands in his, attempting to remove the boy's hands from his face. Aini refused him, shaking his head obstinately. " _Aini_ ," he tried again, firmer this time, and Aini sniffled and relaxed, allowing Sa'akah to pull his hands away.

The boy's pale cheeks were flushed bright pink, his eyes nearly the same color, shimmering with water. He bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes to the table, too embarrassed to look Sa'akah in the eye. Sa'akah was momentarily taken aback by just how fragile Aini looked, how delicate and sweet, and for a fleeting moment his desire to comfort him was overruled by his desire to kiss him.

As their lips met Sa'akah realized what a horribly outlandish thing he'd just done, but to his surprise Aini did nothing to move away. Their mouths planted firmly against each other but too timid to move, Sa'akah held his breath, unsure of how this kissing thing was supposed to go, too engrossed with the unexpected warmth of Aini's lips and the wetness of the boy's tear-streaked cheek against his nose to concern himself with technique. Aini surprised him a second time by slowly beginning to move his lips rhythmically, opening his mouth by the tiniest of margins, luring Sa'akah to follow his lead.

Sa'akah moved in closer and Aini placed a hand on the table behind him for balance, knocking a book to the floor. The clatter brought Sa'akah to his senses, and he pulled away, searching Aini's face worriedly for traces of regret or disgust. When he saw neither of these, he breathed an internal sigh of relief.

"Aini, I'm sorry... That was… weird..."

Aini shook his head, eyes still glistening with tears. "It's okay. That wasn't… uhmm, _bad_ , or anything. It was nice."

Sa'akah both agreed and disagreed. While he thought the kiss hadn't been unpleasant in the slightest, he worried he had just crossed some sort of invisible friendship line on a whim. Would things be awkward from now on? Could they go on being friends just like they always had?

Kneeling down, Aini picked up the fallen book, carefully checking its pages for bends or tears. "So, uhm… What's this book about?" the boy asked suddenly, pulling Sa'akah from his thoughts. He had the thick tome opened to a particular page, staring hard at the cryptic circle on the yellowed parchment littered with markings and words. "What does this mean?"

Sa'akah got the feeling Aini was trying to change the subject, and he felt compelled to thank him but that would have defeated the purpose. He cleared his throat, glancing at the page. "Oh… This one is about djinn. That circle is meant for summoning djinn and enslaving them."

Aini noticeably tensed, handing the book carefully to Sa'akah. He took it, staring hard at the summoning circle depicted on the page, his mouth set in an apologetic frown. "Sorry. I forgot you don't really like talking about djinn. You see djinn all the time, huh? Even when they're hiding?"

The boy nodded dolefully. "Rim still doesn't believe me."

"He doesn't understand how sensitive you are to those things. Rim doesn't believe in anything he can't see for himself. He's just that way."

At the mention of Rim, Aini sniffled again, his eyes shining with a new wave of tears. He blinked them away. Sa'akah looked back at the book, a sudden thought forming. "It's true that djinn can perform miracles, right?" he asked, and Aini looked at him in silent intrigue. "They grant wishes, don't they?"

"If you can get them to obey you." Aini said, wiping his eyes again. "It's really dangerous to try if you don't know what you're doing, though. Djinn will do anything to avoid being captured."

That was nothing that Sa'akah didn't know, of course, but he wasn't concerning himself with the danger. He was thinking about all the books he'd read about djinn, how many summoning circles he could easily draw, and the sorts of miracles djinn could perform. If he hadn't been so caught up in this sudden surge of excitement, he might have guarded his next question a bit better.

"Do you think a djinn would be able to save Rim's father?"

Aini's mouth promptly fell open and he stared at Sa'akah as if the boy had just announced he was Allah himself. He attempted to say words several times with no success until he finally lurched forward and grabbed hold of Sa'akah's sleeve.

"You _can't_ be thinking…!"

"Why not?" Sa'akah asked with a frown. "If Rim and Ghazi didn't have to leave… If Rim didn't need to be _sold_ … If you didn't have to cry…? Why not give it a try, at least?"

"It isn't something you can 'try'!" Aini exclaimed, having finally found his voice. "You can't play around with magick! You're just a kid! Even for something like this, it isn't worth the risk!"

Without fully meaning to, Sa'akah ripped his sleeve out of Aini's grip; the boy looked stricken, which made Sa'akah's stomach swim with guilt. Even so, he was too fired up to muster up an apology. "Even if it meant Rim could stay here?" he asked hotly, and Aini closed his mouth and stared at the ground, looking close to tears again. "I hate feeling so helpless! What good are djinn if they have the power to make miracles happen but they _never do_?"

A ringing silence fell over the room. Aini stared at the floor, shoulders shaking, tears falling freely from his eyes. Sa'akah felt the guilt crush him like a ton of stone. He'd gone from kissing him to yelling at him in under three minutes and he felt absolutely wicked for it.

"Aini, I…" Apologizing at this point felt so expected that he nearly couldn't do it. Aini saved him the trouble by taking a deep breath and looking up into Sa'akah's face with earnest eyes.

"I understand how you feel… I really do. But please, _please_ Sa'akah…" Aini stepped forward and pressed his face into Sa'akah's chest, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's waist. Surprised, Sa'akah slowly reciprocated, resting his chin on the top of Aini's head. "Please promise me something."

Sa'akah said nothing. He already knew what Aini was going to say, and it pained him how little it mattered.

"Promise you won't start playing around with magick. _Please_. It's scary. I care about you and Rim so much… But… I feel like if you resort to something like that, really bad things will happen. So please, promise me?"

Sa'akah tightened his hold around the boy. "Okay. I promise."

He didn't feel he was lying, not even a little bit. He had no intentions of playing around. He knew he could do it properly. If it could alleviate this feeling of utter helplessness, he was willing to try anything.

.

.

.

It was exceedingly easy to lose track of time in the water.

By the time Hafa came back to his senses, he noted the position of the sun and realized he'd been gone for much longer than he intended. Makarim was most likely awake by this time and looking for him. Allowing some time to dry off, Hafa headed for the palace as soon as he dressed himself.

He'd been walking for a few minutes when he caught sight of a tall figure far ahead of him. As he neared, it became clear that it was Makarim, though what he was doing Hafa could only guess. He thought to call out to him, but something seemed terribly off. Makarim was standing stone-still in the sand facing the palace, with no indication that he was heading in any particular direction. When Hafa was sure that Makarim should have heard his footsteps by now, he tried calling.

"Makarim, I'm here."

No response. A chill flew down Hafa's spine. He knew that Makarim wasn't cross with him or giving him some kind of silent treatment - Makarim simply didn't do things like that, he didn't act that way. The air around him seemed thick and suffocating in a way Hafa couldn't possibly put into words; it terrified him. He approached the man and stepped in front of him, peering at his face.

"Makarim?"

Makarim's eyes were staring past Hafa as if he were looking at nothing. His lips were moving quickly and decisively but Hafa couldn't hear the words he was saying.

His heart in his throat, Hafa tried and failed to catch Makarim's gaze; it remained as empty and distant as it had moments before. "Makarim!" Nothing. He almost thought he could hear the words Makarim was whispering, but they didn't make any sense. Hafa roughly grabbed his lover by his shoulders, shaking him. " _Makarim_!"

Something shifted behind Makarim's emerald irises and he blinked several times. He noticed Hafa immediately, and his face glowed with relief. "Haru! _Ahh_ , thank goodness… I figured you'd gone off to swim for a while, but you were taking so long I thought I'd come and get you." Makarim glanced around, looking vaguely puzzled. "Did I happen to catch you on your way back?" he asked.

Hafa wasn't sure what to say. His heart was still hammering in his chest so hard he could feel it in his neck. Something wasn't right. Could it be related to what Sa'akah had told him? Time and reality and all of that? That didn't seem like the answer, somehow.

"Makarim… Are you feeling alright?" Hafa asked, his fingers slowly slipping from Makarim's shoulders.

Makarim blinked at him. "Me?" He flashed a kind smile. "I'm fine. I was more worried about you, honestly… Last night it really seemed like there was something on your mind. I was wondering if maybe the events of the day had just caught up with you, but… Well, if there's anything you need to talk about, you know I'll listen, right?"

It was as if nothing strange had happened at all. Hafa almost wondered if he'd imagined it, but he knew he hadn't. He hadn't slipped so far into delusion to start coming up with things like that.

"Just now, when I first started talking to you… You don't remember anything?"

Makarim tilted his head in confusion. "Of course I remember. It was just a minute ago, wasn't it?"

Worry filling his chest like a thick liquid, Hafa shook his head. "Nevermind. Everything's fine, I'm feeling a lot better. Yesterday just took a lot out of me." He paused. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

Makarim smiled. "You don't have to apologize. I'm just glad you're feeling better." He gasped suddenly. "That's right! You'll never _believe_ -"

" _There_ you two are!"

A distressed voice rang loudly from behind, and Hafa turned to see Miss Maha gliding toward them in her human guise, lightly panting although she clearly hadn't been doing any running. She looked like her usual self, her physical form holding together without any trouble.

"Why did you wander so far away? I thought maybe those dreadful ghul had a change of heart and dragged you off!"

"Sorry, sorry," Makarim chuckled apologetically. "We were just heading back. How do you feel, Miss Maha?"

Maha performed an impressive spin in the air, her outfit jingling enthusiastically. "All better! I'm telling you, I've _never_ had to take so long just to heal my essence! Those stupid brats really did a number on me. But now that I'm feeling great again, we can go back anytime you like!"

"Ahh, that's what I was going to say!" Makarim exclaimed earnestly. "Aini came back with Rim! Rim is okay!"

Both Hafa and Maha stared at Makarim with identical looks of surprise.

"That's wonderful!" Maha beamed. "' _Be patient and you'll get what you want_ ', right?"

Hafa chose not to say anything. He was happy, certainly, but beyond that he wasn't sure how he felt. He was more afraid of seeing Rim than he was Makarim, and he wasn't sure what he could even say to Rim at this point that wouldn't end in a desperate apology for all he had done.

"Where are they now?" Maha asked, looking around.

"It might be a little while before we see them. They headed up to the palace to talk to Sa'akah. As it turns out, they didn't know he was still alive… It was quite a shock to both of them when I mentioned his name."

"Well, let's go up there and wait for them, shall we?" Maha suggested with a smile, leading the way. Makarim tapped Hafa gently on the shoulder.

"Coming, Haru?"

"Ah… Yes."

.

.

.

"It's fucking dark in here. Isn't there anything you can do about that?" Rim asked the ghul walking ahead of them. As they moved through the corridor, the tawny-haired ghul turned on his heel and flippantly bowed low to the floor.

"I'm terribly sorry your _majesty_. You're outta luck, though. Just bear with it a teensy bit longer, would you?"

"Why, you _fuck_ -"

Aini swept in and pressed his hands against Rim's chest, keeping him from barreling forward into a fight he couldn't possibly win. "Rim, don't let them rile you up. They're djinn, remember?"

"That's right, they're _djinn_ ," Rim snarled. "Should we even be following them? What if they're leading us right into some kind of trap?"

"Makarim wouldn't have let that happen!" Aini pointed out, though his voice seemed uncertain.

Rim glared at the ghul, his sharp teeth set in a grimace. "It's not that I don't trust Makarim. It's djinn I don't fucking trust."

"Oh, _come on_!" the dark-haired djinn groaned. "Listen, we have a job to do here, but our master never said we had to be _polite_ about it."

"Master?" Rim asked hotly. "Are you talking about Sa'akah?"

"Who else?" the fairer of the two asked. "Well, I guess he's not _technically_ our master. 'Master' means he has complete control over everything we do, right? That's a bit much."

"I guess that's true," the other sighed. "We're allowing him some control over us in order to meet our own needs, but we can still act independently. I mean, if we _really_ wanted to…" Eyes glowing ominously, he turned to Rim and Aini with a sadistic grin. "...we could take you two apart right here and now."

A sharp clang sounded throughout the corridor, so loud and sudden that both the ghul shrank back, turning in alarm.

"Suggest something like that again and I'll be taking _both of you_ apart," came Sa'akah's patient - albeit venomous - voice. The tawny-haired ghul chuckled nervously.

"You can't group _me_ with _him_! _He's_ the one saying all this weird stuff…"

"Oy!" the dark-haired ghul cried, betrayed. "I was only making fun!"

"You're not needed at this moment. Begone." Sa'akah commanded, and before he could strike his staff against the floor again, the two forms had obediently melded into the shadows and disappeared.

As the ringing sound of Sa'akah's staff gradually faded into silence, no one spoke. Softly glowing orbs had accompanied Sa'akah, drifting languidly into the hall and illuminating it with pale white light; Rim and Aini remained silent and motionless, both of them transfixed, staring at Sa'akah with expressions of disbelief. Rim was the first to act; he walked forward, slowly as if he weren't headed anywhere important, until his gait increased and he was striding toward Sa'akah as if he meant to punch him.

" _You…_ "

Sa'akah remained unmoving as Rim stopped in front of him, raising a shaking fist just to powerlessly bring it down on the man's broad chest. Rim shoved and punched him, his breath caught in his throat, whimpers breaking through the ceaseless motions. Sa'akah didn't move an inch, staring down at Rim with a small smile.

"Dammit… You… How are you alive…?" Rim asked shakily, his fists coming to rest on Sa'akah's chest as he lowered his head to hide his face. "It's really you, isn't it? Sa'akah… Fucking _say_ something…"

Sa'akah's smile became a touch more melancholy. "Hello, Rim."

Rim met Sa'akah's eyes, and upon hearing him speak, he couldn't stop the tears from coming. He shoved Sa'akah again, harder this time, and then with a suppressed sob he pulled the taller man into an embrace.

Sa'akah laughed through his nose, wrapping his arms around the Prince. "I knew you would cry," he said teasingly.

" _Fuck you_ , this is kind of one of those _moment_ things, you jerk." Rim hissed through poorly-concealed tears. His crying turned to sharp laughter. "It's really you, isn't it?"

"It's really me," Sa'akah answered. Rim pulled away, grinning. He playfully punched him in the arm.

"I seriously can't believe it… Sa'akah… I never thought…" Rim shook his head, laughing, wiping at his eyes. He glanced back at Aini, who had not yet moved from his initial spot down the corridor. "Aini, get over here! Can you believe this?"

Aini didn't move. His eyes were trained on Sa'akah, wide with uncertainty. His hands were balled in the thick material of his pants, knuckles turning white. Rim's smile disappeared. "Aini…?"

"Say something only Sa'akah would say!" Aini suddenly commanded, his voice strong but spiked with panic. Sa'akah met his gaze cooly, unwaveringly. Rim looked from one to the other, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

"Aini, what are you-"

"I mean it!" Aini cut across Rim as if he wasn't there, and Rim fell silent, stunned. "Say something that only the four of us would have known!" At Sa'akah's continued silence, Aini's face warped into something angry and fearful. " _Right now_!"

Sa'akah sighed, leveling his gaze. "In our secret place, the four of us had a treasure chest. We all put things in it we thought were special. You found a stone coin down by the river, and we joked about how it may have been magick-"

"Something else!" Aini choked out, tears freely rolling down his pale cheeks, his hands trembling. "Say something that only Sa'akah would know!"

Sa'akah smiled sadly. "I know that the last time I saw you crying, I made you a promise."

There was a moment of decisive silence as Aini trembled and cried, head bowed as tears dropped to the smooth floor. The next moment he was running towards the men, throwing his arms around both of them and crying joyously. The three men embraced each other, Rim and Sa'akah laughing, Aini choking out words that were practically unintelligible through the tears. It only made all of them laugh harder.

.

.

.

"So, that's Solomon's staff?" Rim asked, taking the warm goblet of tea from Sa'akah. Aini was already gently sipping at his, his cheeks and eyes still red from all the crying he'd done.

After their tearful reunion, Sa'akah had led them into a decorative, warm room filled wall-to-wall with colorful tapestries. Intricate furniture was situated at the back of the room near the rounded fireplace, and Rim chose to sit beside Aini on the long, deep cushioned couch. After placing the remainder of the tea on the small table in the middle of the arrangement, Sa'akah sat down across from them in a long-backed crimson chair. He rested his staff next to him.

"Mm. Not nearly as powerful as his ring, but it has it's uses."

"Is that how you're able to control those ghul? And how you were able to enter this palace?" Aini asked curiously, blowing over his tea.

"Yes. And 'control' isn't quite the word. The staff can't bind or summon djinn, but it can ward them, and potentially harm them. Those idiots are free to do what they want and go where they please, but if they're in my presence, they can't try anything funny."

"Eh?" Rim leaned back, resting his goblet against his knee. "Then why are they doing all this stuff for you when they really don't have to?"

Sa'akah smiled. "They live here, more or less. Since we've been sharing the same space, they simply find it in their best interest to do some chores for me."

"So are you the one who ordered them to bring Haru?" Aini asked.

"I'm afraid so. Sorry for the scare."

"You could have found some other way of getting that done!" Aini pointed out grumpily. "If you had shown yourself and explained everything, you wouldn't have thrown us all into such a panic!"

Sa'akah shook his head. "I was afraid if I showed myself to you, I would have just delayed Rim's rescue. I knew that with your acute senses, all you needed was a moment on your own to feel where he was and go to him. Seems like it worked."

Aini giggled. "Well, I guess since everything turned out the way it did…" He took another gulp of tea.

"How were you so sure Aini would be the one to find me?" Rim asked curiously.

"I know a bit about this curse of yours. Aini's senses are keen. It wasn't a difficult assumption to make."

"Still, why wasn't I able to find him before today?" Aini asked with a troubled expression. "We'd been looking for him for so long…"

Sa'akah folded his hands together in his lap and stared hard at the unlit fireplace. "I just had a feeling you needed to be alone to really pick up on it. Call it a hunch."

Aini stared down at his tea, feeling distinctly as though they weren't being told the whole story. From beside him, Rim finished off his tea with a loud and satisfied sigh. He set his goblet down next to the kettle on the table.

"I still really can't believe we're sitting here talking to you," Rim said with a giddy chuckle. "I wasn't expecting so many surprises right after such a long, boring time out on the sands. I have so many questions for you I don't even know where to start."

"There's no rush," Sa'akah said coolly, finishing his own tea and setting his cup next to Rim's. "I'll answer whatever I can."

"Ghazi's going to be so surprised..." Rim's eyes suddenly flew open. "Ghazi… That's right, she doesn't know yet, does she…" Rim raked a hand through his hair. "I really want to see her. And I guess I haven't seen Hafa yet, either."

"Should we go and see if Makarim's found him yet?" Aini asked. Rim sighed.

"We probably should. If that djinn who's been helping you guys out is back, we'll have to hitch a ride back to the city if I want to see Ghazi."

Sa'akah tapped a finger against his staff. "If you don't mind waiting another night, I can take you two back to the city tomorrow. Using Solomon's staff is perfectly safe and just as effective. That way, you could take a night to clean yourself up and rest properly before seeing your sister."

"You can really do that?" Aini asked in wonder. Sa'akah nodded.

Rim tilted his head in thought. "I guess if Hafa and Makarim wanted to go on ahead and tell everyone we're fine, I wouldn't mind that too much. I haven't had a proper bath in… Well, to be honest with you I don't know long. It would be nice to clean up." He glanced at Aini questioningly.

"I don't mind, either. I know Ghazi will be anxious to see you, but I'm sure she can wait just one more night. Besides, we didn't get much sleep last night because of how worked up we both were." As he realized his choice of words, Aini reddened, causing both men to snicker. "I meant because of how _emotional_ everything was!"

As Rim lightly teased a flustered Aini, Sa'akah stood up, taking his staff in his hand. "If that's been decided, we should go check on your friends and let them know you're alright."

.

.

.

It was mid-afternoon when Hafa and Makarim returned to their tent, and there was no sign of Rim, Aini or the two giant eagles that were normally stalking ominously above the palace. Fearful she might be attacked again, Maha took her field mouse guise and rode on Hafa's shoulder, her small, beady eyes focused cautiously on the sky.

They sat outside the tent to eat their modest lunch. Hafa couldn't help but watch Makarim's every movement and carefully listen to his every word, searching diligently for anything that seemed remotely out of place. So far, he was acting completely normally. Hafa couldn't imagine that Makarim was a terribly good liar or exceptionally talented at hiding a rather serious problem, - if his condition after his father passed away was any indication - and there appeared to be absolutely no deception in his manner. Had he been sleepwalking, perhaps?

"Haru! There they are!" Makarim stood up, pointing at two figures who were making their way over the sand toward them. A third figure - Sa'akah, more than likely - stood up by the front of the palace, watching them like a hawk watches its prey.

Seeing Rim, even at a distance, threw Hafa's heart into a sickening spiral. He wasn't sure he was ready to see him yet. What had Sa'akah told him? Surely he hadn't said anything about the curse, since he had been so keen for Hafa to keep quiet about it. Still, he wasn't sure how he should greet him. How could he possibly feign happiness at his return when he knew what he'd really done to him?

As the two of them approached, Hafa had the wild urge to dash away; by either coincidence or something more significant and vaguely psychic, Makarim grabbed his upper arm gently, leading him toward the two waving men.

"Rim, Aini! Is everything okay?" Makarim asked just as they stepped within earshot.

"Better than okay," Rim beamed at them, stopping in front of them and flashing a warm grin at Hafa. "Hey, Hafa."

Hafa did everything in his power not to look away from Rim's grateful eyes. "...Hey."

Rim scratched the back of his head. "Oy, don't sound _too_ excited to see me," he said with an awkward laugh. "Though, I guess you had a pretty shitty day yesterday, huh? Those ghul assholes probably scared the shit out of you."

Hafa had nearly forgotten about his brief interaction with the eagles. His mind was still stuck firmly on all that had happened in the palace afterwards. He offered a stiff nod in reply, searching desperately for words he could say that wouldn't cut him on their way out.

"I'm glad you're okay, Rim." he finally decided to say. Rim eyed him in mild surprise.

"Yeah. You too." After a short and delicate silence, Rim sighed. "Hafa… Thanks for, you know. I guess it's sort of weird to be thanking someone for cursing you, but I know you did it to save me, so… Well, I wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't."

The words pushed through Hafa's skin like freezing cold needles, each one of them making it harder and harder to breathe. Hafa's eyes darted away, back up toward the palace, falling helplessly on Sa'akah's distant form. He couldn't say anything. With or without Sa'akah's penetrating presence, Hafa couldn't admit what he knew.

Once again Makarim seemed to sense the pulsating discomfort that Hafa felt was radiating off of him in waves; with a bright smile, the man placed a hand on Hafa's shoulder and strove to change the subject.

"Did you both have a good talk with Sa'akah?" Makarim asked curiously.

Aini nodded, smiling. "We would have talked longer, but we wanted to see if you'd found Haru yet." the young man tilted his head at Hafa, peering at his shoulder. "Miss Maha? Is that you?"

"In the corporeal flesh," the mouse squeaked proudly.

"Thank goodness! You're all healed up, then?"

"I'm very well rested, thank you."

"You're the djinn that helped us out when Sharik broke out of me, right?" Rim asked, not having noticed the small rodent until she had begun to speak. The mouse stood on its hind legs and nodded its head.

"I did what I could." it replied, cleaning its whiskers.

Rim smiled. "Thanks for everything you did. I didn't think I'd get the chance to thank you, but it really means a lot."

The mouse stared at Rim for a long moment, and then scurried up the back of Hafa's neck to perch herself on the top of his head. "Enough with all the thank yous! We've been searching for you for five long months, young man, so it's finally time to head home, wouldn't you say?"

"Ah, actually, about that…" Aini held out his hands, worried that Maha might zap them all away before they'd get a word in.

"We're going to stay here tonight. It'll give us a chance to get cleaned and rested up before we head back." Rim finished. "Sa'akah has a way to take us back to the city, so we'll probably meet up with you guys tomorrow morning."

"Can he use magic?" Makarim asked, bewildered.

Rim shrugged. "Maybe. He has Solomon's staff, so I guess he knows a few tricks."

"Solomon's staff?" Maha asked, nose twitching in interest. "How did he come to possess something like _that_?"

Makarim glanced up at the mouse, perking a brow. "Weren't you bound to Solomon's tomb when we first met you, Miss Maha? Was his staff something you were charged with protecting?" he asked.

The mouse shook its head. "No one knew where the staff went when King Solomon died. It just sort of vanished. I had thought it was lost or destroyed."

"Well, he's coming back with us tomorrow, so you guys can ask him all the questions you want." Rim said, lacing his fingers together behind his head. "We still have a lot of questions for him, too."

Makarim smiled. "Naturally. It's been so long since you've all seen each other."

"What should we tell Ghazi?" Hafa asked.

Rim chuckled. "Just tell her we'll be back soon. You can let her know we found Sa'akah, too - that ought to calm her down if she gets pissed."

"I think she'll be too relieved to be upset," Aini pointed out.

Makarim gave Hafa's shoulder a small squeeze. "In that case, don't worry about us. We'll head back to the city once we get all of our things together and let everyone know what's going on."

"Thanks," Rim said with a grin. "We'll be there first thing in the morning."

.

.

.

It had taken under an hour to pack away their tent and gather all of their things, and only the blink of an eye for Maha to bring them back to the city.

Since they couldn't safely re-appear inside the city, Maha landed them just outside the city walls so that they could enter without being terribly suspicious. As they navigated around the wall, Hafa gently leading his camel by his harness, Maha squeaked close to Hafa's ear.

"Who are those people?" she asked, pointing a paw North of the city. An elaborate camp with a dozen black stallions and men clad in armor and matching tunics sat outside the walls at a comfortable distance. Hafa squinted against the sun to better see them, noting the prominent flags on the tents.

"Sultan Akram Ibn-Zafir of Sama Al-Kah." Makarim answered, his voice grave. "I was hoping they'd be gone before I came back."

"Why are they here?" Hafa asked.

"We're not sure. If I know Reem, though, I'll bet he's been keeping an eye on them. We'll have to ask him about it later."

Distracted by the tents and war horses, the three of them hurriedly entered the hustle and bustle of the afternoon bazaar, hoping to avoid the eyes of Sama Al-Kah's lookouts.

.

.

.

Hafa felt a bit suffocated. Between Rani, Ru'a and Najiya, he was being effectively squashed from all angles. The twins were in his lap, one on each knee with their little faces pressed into his neck as they giggled and cried, and his left arm was being hugged fiercely by an overzealous blonde who appeared to have grown at least an inch since Hafa had last seen him.

"I can't believe you're really okay, Haru!" Najiya cried happily, nuzzling his forehead against Hafa's arm. Hafa could barely move let alone pull his arm away.

"Are you really back for good, Haru?" squealed one of the twins, though it was impossible to tell which one at this point.

"You found the Prince, right? So you won't leave again?" the other asked earnestly.

Makarim chuckled fondly, watching the happy scene, patting Ghazi's back comfortingly as she sniffled beside him in a teary daze. "Now now, you two - err, _three_ \- be gentle with Haru, he had a rough day yesterday and he might still be sore."

"It's okay." Hafa managed to sputter as Rani tightened his hold around Hafa's neck. "I'm fine."

Reem was sitting on Ghazi's other side, his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, Princess?"

Ghazi nodded lightly. "I know it might not look like it, but I'm not upset… I'm just having a hard time accepting everything I've heard. My brother was found, and now Sa'akah is alive? And they'll be here tomorrow?" She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand as more tears formed in her shining crimson eyes. "It's almost too much."

"He promised they'd be here tomorrow morning... It might be good to know beforehand so that when you see them tomorrow it all will have sunk in, don't you think?" Makarim asked with a kind smile. Ghazi nodded, her pink lips pulling into a soft smile.

"Whose this Sa'akah?" came Mumyi's voice from behind them. He was seated at the bottom of Makarim's ladder, swinging one of his legs. The entire ordeal had been a little too emotional for him, so he'd strayed away from the reunion when it had become especially teary.

"An old friend of me and my brother." Ghazi answered, wiping away a few tears. "We thought he was dead for years, so it's really a surprise."

When Mumyi went unnaturally silent, Ghazi turned to look at him with a slightly apologetic smile. "Ahh, though… I guess you know what that feels like a little bit, don't you?" she asked him, and the thief's head rose to meet her gaze. He nodded.

"A little, I guess."

Hafa stared at Mumyi contemplatively for a moment before decisively looking away. Telling him that Sa'akah had met Siraj al Din didn't seem like useful information. Sa'akah had no leads on where Siraj al Din might have gone after their encounter, so it seemed pointless to say anything.

"It'll be alright!" Ghazi said encouragingly, clenching her fists. "When my brother comes back tomorrow, we can ask him if he knows anything about where Siraj al Din might have gone! He knew him the best, since he was his vizier."

Instead of appearing motivated by Ghazi's words, Mumyi seemed to fall into an even deeper gloom. No one quite seemed to know what to say to break the mood, but fortunately, the twins were too young to be remotely tactful.

"So, we get to meet the Prince tomorrow?" Ru'a asked, finally pulling away from Hafa so that she could look up at his face. Rani did the same, wiping at his eyes. Admittedly, he'd done a lot more crying than Ru'a.

"He's not bad anymore, right?" the boy asked, and Hafa placed a hand on both of the children's heads, Najiya thankfully having removed himself from his body.

"He's not bad anymore, and he isn't a Prince anymore, either." Hafa said. They had explained everything to the children shortly after the palace had collapsed, but the concept of a human and a djinn sharing the same body was still difficult for them to understand. "Rim was never bad to begin with. We told you about the djinn Sharik, remember?"

"That's right," Reem said, smiling at the children. "It was Sharik who was responsible for everything that happened, so you two don't have to worry. The Prin- Ahh, Rim is a very good person."

Looking relieved, the twins both let out identical contented sighs.

"Mako?" Najiya brought everyone's attention to Makarim, who had suddenly clutched at his chest, struggling for breath, his expression dark. "What's wrong?"

Makarim seemed to come back to himself, releasing the front of his thawb with mildly shaking fingers. He smiled, but it looked rather unconvincing. "Nothing's wrong, I think I'm just a little tired after everything that's happened," he said with a chuckle. Hafa watched Makarim stand up, worry rising into his throat like bile. Was this the same thing that happened earlier? "I think I'm going to step outside for some fresh air. I'll only be a minute." Excusing himself with a dismissing smile, he let himself out through the front door.

Letting out a concerned whine, Najiya sprang up and went to follow, but Hafa quickly grabbed a hold of the boy's wrist.

"I'll go," Hafa said, and carefully moved the twins off of his lap.

"He's having an 'attack', I just know it!" Najiya said quietly to Hafa. "Before he went to look for you, something similar happened in the back room! He said it was nothing..."

The twins looked up at Hafa imploringly.

"Is big brother okay?" Rani asked worriedly. Hafa managed a small smile and nodded.

"It's been a stressful day. I'll go check on him, so just stay put."

.

.

.

The city was much busier than Hafa remembered before he'd left to find Rim. People were healthier, no longer wasting away in alleys, and businesses were thriving now that people weren't spending all of their coin at the palace on overpriced water. Even though the increase in people meant things were looking up, Hafa still felt the familiar panic creeping up his throat, threatening to engulf him. He'd gotten much more used to being surrounded by people and hearing their voices, but the fact remained that he'd only spent an accumulated four weeks in a human city during his lifetime, and he still wasn't nearly as acclimated to it as he wished he was.

Hafa firmly pressed down his panic, continuing to look for Makarim through the scores of humans. All that mattered right now was finding Makarim and making sure he was alright. Trying to think of where Makarim might have taken refuge, Hafa caught sight of a yellow turban turning onto a small side street and immediately took off after it. Weaving through the hoards of people buying and selling, Hafa finally made it through and emptied onto the side street.

He found Makarim standing with his forehead pressed to a wall, his shoulders swelling with deep breaths. Slightly frightened that he'd be greeted with the same unresponsiveness as earlier in the day, Hafa approached Makarim slowly, stopping next to him.

"Makarim."

To his relief, Makarim looked his way, eyes large in surprise. "Haru… You didn't have to follow me, I was coming right back."

"What's wrong?" Hafa asked seriously. "You look like you're going to be sick."

Makarim shook his head, drawing in a long, shaky breath. "The last couple of days have just been especially trying, is all. It's really nothing to worry about." He sighed again, smiling. "Should we head back?"

"Makarim," Hafa placed a hand on Makarim's shoulder and gently stopped him from taking a step. "If there's something wrong, tell me."

Makarim's smile promptly disappeared. "Haru, really-"

"You really don't remember what happened this morning?" Hafa asked sharply. Makarim blinked at him.

"This morning?"

"I found you out on the sand. I tried talking to you and it was like you couldn't hear me at all. You were saying things under your breath… It _scared_ me."

Makarim's brow furrowed in concern. "Haru… I went looking for you after talking to Rim. All I remember is crossing paths with you as you were heading back to our tent."

Frustrated, Hafa shook his head. "I'm telling you, you looked like you were in some sort of trance. I had to call you several times before you recognized me."

"What?" Makarim smiled and placed a hand over Hafa's, which only served to frustrate Hafa further. "Haru, I really don't remember anything like that. Are you sure you didn't have a dream about that instead?"

"Najiya told me this has happened before. He called them 'attacks'."

"Haru, _honestly_ , I just needed a breath of fresh air. After all that's happened, it's only natural-"

"Stop lying to me!" Hafa shouted, surprised at himself. What right did he have to accuse Makarim of concealing something when he himself had so many secrets he refused to divulge? Still, his worry had bubbled into frustration with Makarim's never-ending selflessness. "I _know_ something's wrong! Why can't you just tell me?"

Something stormy flickered behind Makarim's kind, calm emerald eyes. It was the first thing to take Hafa by surprise, and the second was Makarim swatting his hand off of his shoulder. As Hafa's arm fell limply to his side, he felt something shatter in his chest.

"Me? What about _you_?" Makarim shouted back, his expression pained. "You haven't been acting like yourself ever since you spoke with Sa'akah. You haven't even been able to _look me in the eye_ properly since we found each other again!"

Only to prove his point, Hafa's eyes shifted away from Makarim's, finding the wall. "That's… not…"

An uncomfortable silence followed the exchange, both men's anger and frustration fading into thick despondency. Once again, Hafa was sick with himself. He couldn't possibly keep everything from Makarim for much longer without risking their relationship, that much was clear now. Makarim could read him like a book.

Makarim leaned back against the wall, bowing his head. "...Am I really that useless to you, Haru?" he asked him in a quivering voice. Hafa wasn't sure what to say. That wasn't it at all. Without Makarim, he couldn't cope. Makarim meant everything to him. How could he possibly explain himself?

"Hey! Nana _suuuuh_!"

A sudden voice from the other end of the street caught the men's attention. Neither of them had taken notice of it until they felt a persistent gaze on them, and looked to see a man in a cream-colored thawb and keffiyeh waving his arms at them enthusiastically, his mouth open in a joyous smile. He was fair-skinned and his hair was an odd peach-color, and as he drew nearer to them, it became clear that he was focused solely on Hafa. For what reason, Hafa had not a clue.

The man stopped in front of Hafa, smiling and panting, and before a single word could be spoken he flung his arms around Hafa and tightly embraced him.

" _Nanasuh_! I can't believe it, it's been _so long_!" the man exclaimed happily. Hafa felt as though his brain had just stopped functioning. His arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, he opened his mouth to offer up some kind of objection when the man's excitable voice cut him off. "I thought I'd never see you again! How long has it been? Five, six years? Have you been _here_ this whole time?"

Six years. With a jolt of sudden panic, Hafa shoved the man off of him roughly, garnering a surprised look in reply. Around six years ago, Hafa woke up in a human body for the first time. It couldn't be…

The peach-haired man smiled apologetically. "Don't you remember me? I've grown a bit since you've last seen me, but it's me! Khuzama." The man called Khuzama laughed gently, swiping some pink hair away from his eyes. "Nanasuh, don't tell me you forgot about me?"

"Excuse me," Makarim put in kindly, finally making his presence known, "I think you might have the wrong person? This is my friend, Haru."

Khuzama looked at Makarim as if he's just realized he was there. He shook his head with a confident smile, waving a finger in the air. "There's no _way_ it's the wrong person!" He boldly leaned forward, tapping his pointer finger against the golden adornment circled around Hafa's waist. "I gave Nanasuh this belt before he left home. I did the engravings myself!" His violet eyes trailed up Hafa's body and landed on his face. Khuzama rubbed a finger thoughtfully against his chin, humming in consideration. "Though I have to admit, you look like you haven't aged a day! We look almost like we're the same age now, don't we?"

Hafa was frozen. This was so much worse than hearing it from Sa'akah, _so much worse_ … He had no idea what to do. Out of pure instinct, he looked to Makarim, his stomach in sick knots, his mind whirling dizzily with fear and panic. Makarim showed him a heartrendingly apathetic smile.

"It's alright, Haru, just tell him that he's mistaken. It's just a misunderstanding."

Hafa couldn't hear Khuzama's reply, or anything that might have come after. He felt like something was scratching at the inside of his head, trying desperately to break free; his knees felt weak and he let the panic and despair overflow, filling up his insides until there was nothing left to feel. Turning on his heel, Hafa took off at a full sprint, flying out of the side street and disappearing into the crowd. Behind him, he could just barely hear Makarim calling for him, his voice lost to the overwhelming roar of the afternoon bazaar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The saying that Maha quotes early in the chapter is an ancient Arabic proverb, “اصبر تنل” which loosely translated means “Be patient and you’ll get what you want”. It’s more than likely the origin of the saying “Patience is a virtue”, which is pretty cool.
> 
> I meANT FOR a hot Reigisa scene to happen in this chapter bUT I COULDN’T FIT IN I LIEDDD TO YOU ALL but it’s okay it’ll either be in the next chapter or the chapter after that, I swearrrr T_T 
> 
> Originally I meant for Kisumi to appear a lot sooner than this, but for plot's sake it was pushed back. Still, I'm glad he's finally here! I love that pink-haired flirty idiot way too much.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aini goes wandering, Miss Maha interrupts a very private moment, and Khuzama gives Hafa a very cryptic warning.

The bathing room was just as overdone as the palace. The lack of servants and fresh air aside, Rim thought the accommodations were much like his own had been. The ceiling was high and sloped, the bath rectangular and surrounded by a mosaic of painted tile that fanned outward in intricate patterns. The wide room was lined with pale pillars which did well to hide the surrounding halls and gave the entire room the appearance of being taller than it was. The torches were unlit and unneeded; Sa'akah brought with him several floating globes of light which cast a cozy atmosphere over the water. As one of them floated nearer to Aini, the boy reached out a hand and gently tapped it with the pad of his middle finger. It drifted lazily downward only to slowly and painstakingly float back up, resuming its rounds.

Rim sank into the water with a contented sigh, resting his head on the blanket he had situated on the outer edge of the bath. "Forget eating… _This_ is what I missed more than anything else," he said, his voice echoing throughout the dim room. "Trying to bathe yourself in a dirty river doesn't really have the same effect."

"It reminds you of your old palace, doesn't it?" Aini asked with a smile. He was still busy scrubbing himself down in the washing area behind the bath, pouring the last bucket of water over his body before he was satisfied he was clean enough.

"Old habits," Rim mused. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to public baths after this. Not that I'm complaining… Any bath is better than none, and after everything I've been through recently I really have no room for griping about anything. It's just going to be weird bathing with a bunch of strangers after having my own private arrangement for so long." Rim rolled his head to the side to view Sa'akah, who was sitting on the edge of the bath opposite him, one leg dangling in the water and the other pulled up against his chest. Seeing his body was surprising; Sa'akah had always been more muscular than Rim when they were children, but his adult body was built like a broad, attractive wall. Rim realized with an uneasy certainty that Sa'akah possessed the exact aesthetic of someone he might have invited to his bedchambers during his reign.

Attractiveness aside, his bronzed skin was peppered with long, thin scars that were only visible when one of his orbs drifted past him and lit them up like grim constellations. Rim had been tempted to ask Sa'akah how he'd acquired them but each time he had lost his nerve.

"Have you given any thought to where you'll live?" Sa'akah asked, noting Rim's lingering gaze. Rim looked away, perhaps too quickly. "Since your palace is gone, the three of you don't have anywhere to go, is that right?"

Bare feet tapped gingerly over the tile as Aini approached the bath, sitting down carefully at the edge, his pale skin rose-tinted from all his scrubbing. "I never bothered to think about it… Ghazi and I were too focused on finding Rim to really worry about long-term arrangements." He dipped his slender legs in the water and glanced at Rim questioningly. Rim had to avert his eyes from Aini's nude body as well; he'd been without company for too long, and he was having a hard time preventing lewd thoughts from filling his head.

Rim sighed and shut his eyes, sinking further into the water. "I figure we'll live rough for a while, maybe try and figure out if I'm _good_ at anything. You know, find a craft. If I can start making some money, I guess I'll go from there."

Aini gently tapped another orb as it glided by him. "I'll help too. With the two of us, we should be able to make even more money!"

Rim grinned. "Given how _pretty_ you are, Aini, I worry about what kind of profession might get suggested to you."

Aini reddened and he decisively hopped into the water, dunking his head underneath.

Sa'akah chuckled. "Maybe all of that won't be necessary." He paused until Aini surfaced. "There's more than enough space here, if you'd like."

Aini wiped his wet bangs away from his eyes. "Are you inviting us to live here?" he asked in surprise. Rim watched Sa'akah with an open mouth.

"I suppose I am," Sa'akah said easily. "As long as you wouldn't mind living in the middle of no where, in a rumored cursed palace. Not that it would be incredibly different from your previous living arrangement."

"I almost don't know what to say." Rim said slowly, raking a hand through his hair. "Thanks, Sa'akah."

"Don't thank me," Sa'akah said, stepping into the water and submerging himself waist-deep. "It's not as if I have any real ownership of the palace. I just happen to have the only key." He jabbed a thumb at Solomon's staff which was lying nearby, resting against a pillar behind them. "Well, aside from the ring your friend possesses."

"I'll have to talk it over with Ghazi first… And I guess I'll have to figure out where _I_ stand, as well." Rim said, rubbing the back of his neck. "After everything I've done, I'm not sure I deserve such an easy solution, you know? I haven't done a single thing to earn anything that's ever been given to me. I'd like to change that."

Sa'akah nodded. "I understand. Just know that my offer always stands."

"Have you lived here ever since the fire?" Aini asked Sa'akah curiously. Sa'akah absently dipped his hand into the water, shaking his head.

"I was lost for some time after I escaped. How long, I'm not exactly sure. I stumbled upon Solomon's staff somewhere along the way, and it led me to this place and protected me from the ghul who watch over it."

"Why _do_ those ghul hang out here?" Rim asked, annoyed. "What exactly are they guarding?"

Sa'akah offered a thin-lipped smile. "Your guess is as good as mine."

.

.

.

Even with all his years of wandering Rim's immense palace corridors, Aini could not make head nor tail of the palace. The lack of windows and open walls was disorientating. As Aini wandered the dark halls, a dim lantern lighting his way, he wondered vaguely if he should have left the bedroom provided for them after all.

Shortly after they had bathed, Sa'akah had shown them to a room suitable for sleeping. It was obvious it hadn't been used for some time, but the bed was roomy and comfortable and the room was extravagant; Rim had fallen asleep as soon as he hit the expertly woven blankets. Aini didn't blame him. It had been such a long time since he'd had access to such pleasures, and he was doubtlessly exhausted after everything that had happened.

Aini, however, didn't find sleep so easily. After much tossing and turning, he had relented to his restlessness and lit a lantern, quietly exiting the room. There were many uncertainties swimming in his mind - chiefly concerning Sa'akah - and a nameless presence that seemed to be fluctuating within the palace, pulling him almost as strongly as Rim's had the previous day. It made his skin crawl. Instinct guiding him, Aini continued through the palace, lantern light flickering against the walls.

The presence within the palace was nearby. Aini could tell by the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood rigid. It felt as though it were coming from the other end of the corridor; the light of Aini's lantern didn't illuminate much, but Aini thought he could see a large set of doors up ahead. Curious, he picked up his pace until an unidentified light floated up from behind him, gliding just past his head and stinging his eyes with its luminescence.

"Having trouble sleeping?" Sa'akah's deep voice called from behind. A feeling of guilt rose within Aini, both for potentially snooping around the palace and for being caught doing so. Slowly, he turned. He could tell from the tone of Sa'akah's voice that there was no curiosity behind his words; they were hardened, intended to stop Aini from going any further.

"You could say that," Aini blurted, laughing nervously. He blew out his lantern and set it down gently beside him. "Sorry for wandering. I should have just stayed in my room."

Sa'akah came nearer, his expression softening. "I never expressly said you weren't allowed to wander. I don't mind if you want to walk around… I'm just concerned you might get lost in here. It's ridiculously big."

Aini smiled. "I already had the 'lost' part taken care of. Thanks for finding me."

Sa'akah nodded in reply, and the both of them dissolved into a tense silence. Aini was tempted to ask about the room, but another pressing issue that he knew was weighing on them both decided to tumble out instead.

"Sa'akah… what…" Aini looked down, chewing on his lip. It was harder than he thought to bring it up. Sa'akah remained patiently silent. "When I first saw you… I'm sorry for questioning you like I did. I'm sorry for being angry."

Sa'akah sharply inhaled a breath through his nose. "It's fine," he answered stiffly.

Aini glanced up at Sa'akah with apologetic eyes. "But… you know why I had to, right?"

The taller man stared down at Aini with a stony expression. "You've only become more sensitive to the otherworldly over time, it seems. I understand why you were suspicious."

The glowing orb floated gently by, illuminating Sa'akah's broad form. Surrounding him on all sides, a thick, black-purple mist emanated from his body, transparent at the edges and looking as though it were dissipating into the air. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of it, constantly covering Sa'akah in a suffocating haze. Aini could see it even at a distance, consuming Sa'akah like a black pit. Unlike the aura of a djinn, however, Aini didn't seem to feel drained or sick when closeby.

Aini raised a hand and passed his fingers through the invisible haze. He felt the slightest of tingles on his skin, like frozen needlepoints.

"What happened to you, Sa'akah?" Aini asked in a small voice. "I've never seen anything like this…"

Sa'akah resisted the desire to draw away from Aini's hand. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to explain any of this."

"Why?" Aini asked quietly, deflated.

"Not because I don't trust you or Rim, or anything like that," Sa'akah assured with a half-smile. "I just didn't see any point in dampening your spirits so soon after Rim was found. I planned to tell both of you as much as I could, if I could find the chance."

Aini leveled Sa'akah a hard look, his thin fingers curling into his palms, forming fists at his sides. "Before the fire… did something happen?" Aini asked, eyes trained on Sa'akah's determinedly. "Did…" His voice faltered and fell, but he steeled himself and continued, "Did you break our promise, Sa'akah?"

Staring back at Aini coolly, Sa'akah nodded. Aini nodded in return, trying hard not to cry. He let his gaze drop to the floor. "Tell me what happened?" Aini asked softly.

Sa'akah sighed. "There isn't much to tell." he said, taking a step away from Aini. "It's as you said. I broke our promise, I played with magick. Everything that has transpired is my fault, and I'm willing to accept the responsibility for what happened to our village, for Sharik, and for everything in between."

Aini stared up at Sa'akah with wide eyes, shining in the soft glow of the floating orb. "Sa'akah… How…"

"I'm the one who summoned Sharik to our village." Sa'akah said, turning away. He gripped his staff a little more tightly. "He got loose, obviously, and you know the rest of the story. He went on a rampage, trapped everyone in their homes and set everything ablaze. I was arrogant, and I made an irreversible mistake. I'm the reason our families are dead, and the reason Sharik found a host in Rim." He glanced back at Aini with a melancholy grin. "Saying 'I'm sorry' at this point would be pretty laughable, don't you think? Instead, I'll let you say whatever you want to me."

Aini drew in a breath through his nose and let it out slow. "How did you survive?"

Sa'akah quirked a brow. "That isn't the first thing I expected to hear from you."

"What were you expecting?"

"Something in the way of 'fuck you' or perhaps a hard kick in the shins. I would be deserving of both, and then some."

Stepping closer to the other man, Aini smiled sadly. "I thought you knew me a bit better than that."

"It isn't that I think ill of you, or think you to be a violent person," Sa'akah said with a regretful sigh. "But considering what I just told you… Aini, I am responsible for the destruction of our village. The _death_ of our _families_. I've had quite a lot of time to get used to that idea, to accept it, but you've only had a moment. It's more than reasonable to be furious with me."

Aini frowned. "You think your involvement changes anything?" he demanded. "I've had just as much time to accept everything, and furthermore, I know you would have never done something like that if you'd known what the outcome could have been. You were stupid… You were a kid. We were all kids. You made a mistake."

Sa'akah stared down at Aini as though the silver-haired boy had lost his mind. "My mistake cost countless people their _lives_. How can you be so calm about this?"

"Do you _want_ me to hate you for it?" Aini challenged, to which Sa'akah promptly pressed his lips together and looked vaguely conflicted. Aini stepped closer, sliding his hand over Sa'akah's, which was holding tight to his staff. " _Sharik_ killed our parents and destroyed our village. That's the only fact I'll accept. When I found Rim and Ghazi again, I was so happy I felt like I could die. I thought I'd lost everyone - I'd resigned myself to that - and yet I was somehow reunited with two people I loved… Even after everything that happened, I felt like the luckiest boy in the world. And now…" Aini looked down, gripping Sa'akah's hand. "We've found you, too. So I'm not letting go. I'm not."

The breath escaped Aini's lungs as he was suddenly grabbed and pressed against the wall behind them. His shoulder blades crushed against cool stone and the orb of light snuffed out just as Sa'akah's mouth closed over his, drawing a startled but appreciative cry from Aini's throat. Sa'akah kissed him hard and with purpose and Aini matched his passion, something fiery and earnest growing in his belly, burning him from the inside out. It was different than their fleeting, awkward childhood kiss. It was consuming, the kind of kiss that pulled the air from your lungs and fanned desires you hadn't wanted to admit you had. Aini twined his arms around Sa'akah's neck, fingers slipping into short dark hair. He opened his mouth and allowed Sa'akah's tongue entry, a thrill running through him when Sa'akah obliged, deepening the kiss. Sa'akah's hands ran over Aini's stomach and chest, feeling him through the thin cloth of his nightshirt. For a dizzy moment Aini felt as though a claim were being laid, and though he knew somewhere inside he should put a stop to it, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by Sa'akah's desire.

A hand slithered up Aini's nightshirt and palmed his chest eagerly. Sa'akah's hand was warm, but something cool swiped across Aini's left nipple, making him shiver and whimper. He could hardly give a thought to what it was while he was so unfairly worked up; without thinking, Aini arched his back and pushed shamelessly against Sa'akah's hand. As though he had just experienced a surge of reason, Sa'akah's hand slipped out from under Aini's shirt and he broke their kiss, his breath hot and labored against Aini's mouth. Unable to gain back his senses as quickly, Aini impulsively attempted to continue, tightening his hold around Sa'akah's neck. Sa'akah braced a hand against the wall next to Aini's head.

"I'm sorry," Sa'akah breathed huskily. His voice pulled Aini from his trance, and the boy loosened his grip, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"That's what you said the last time, too," Aini whispered with a half-hearted giggle.

"I really am," Sa'akah continued, regaining his breath. "After all this time, after the day you've had… and… Rim…"

Rim's name spoken aloud sobered Aini faster than he previously would have expected possible, and Aini let his arms slide to his sides, his gaze falling to the floor. "I understand," Aini spoke softly, "You've been alone for a long time, haven't you? It's only natural, especially after telling me something like that and expecting to be rejected."

"Even now, you still don't hate me." Sa'akah did not phrase it as a question, more as a wondrous fact that he was having trouble digesting.

"I think I hate myself a little bit right now," Aini admitted with a weak smile. "I was just reunited with Rim, and I'm kissing someone else."

Sa'akah took his weight off of the wall, staring down at Aini with a concerned expression. "I started this. Everyone's emotions are a mess. I wouldn't start holding yourself accountable for my inability to control myself, especially when you're compromised."

Aini wiped away some water that was beginning to form at his bottom lashes. "I suppose I was reunited with you, too. Somehow I can't help but feel guilty."

"Believe me, I have no intentions of putting a rift between you and Rim. That's the last thing I could possibly want." Sa'akah moved to touch the side of Aini's face but stopped just shy of the boy's cheek. "It was my mistake. I'm sorry."

Aini grabbed Sa'akah's hand in his and gently pressed it to his face, a stray tear rolling over his cheek. " _Was_ it a mistake? Do you regret it?" he asked.

Sa'akah fell silent, his face unreadable. "I regret it if it upset you."

Issuing a soft laugh, Aini closed his eyes. "It isn't the kiss that upset me." The boy blew a sigh through his lips. "I love Rim. I love him more than anything, but you're precious to me, too. Finding out you were alive was like a dream. I know Rim felt the same way." Aini opened his eyes, glancing up at Sa'akah through the darkness. "You remember when you first kissed me when we were kids, right?"

"It's not something one would forget easily," Sa'akah answered.

"Was it your first kiss?" Aini asked curiously.

"Yes."

"Mine, too." Aini said, letting Sa'akah's hand drop from his face but holding tight to it anyway. "Do you know what made me happy that day? I really couldn't believe you wanted to kiss someone like me. I never thought you could ever see me as more than a young, weak little boy who couldn't do anything right. I saw how you looked at Rim and I felt envious. I knew you liked Rim back then… I did, too. When you kissed me, I felt like maybe I was wrong the entire time. I felt like I was worthy of love, too."

Unsure of how to respond, Sa'akah remained silent until Aini spoke again, smiling. "Do you still love Rim?"

After a decisive moment, Sa'akah nodded. "Yes."

"I thought so," Aini hummed.

"To be clear," Sa'akah put in hastily, "I wasn't just using you to pour out my sexual frustrations. I care for you just as much. My feelings are as relevant now as they were years ago. Regardless of how I feel, you and Rim have each other... I don't deserve either of you, and even if I did, I wouldn't want to come between you."

Aini fell into a thoughtful silence. He loosened his hold on Sa'akah's hand only so he could fan his fingertips gently over Sa'akah's palm; the man reflexively jerked, but Aini held fast to his hand.

"How did you survive?" Aini asked again, carefully turning over Sa'akah's hand. Sa'akah allowed it, though he stiffened when his palm was exposed. There was an 'x' shaped scar in the center of his hand, white and stretched; at its center was a deep purple gem, buried in his skin, faintly glowing. Even though it was dark, Aini's sensitive eyes could see the gem slowly and methodically pulling traces of the dark mist surrounding Sa'akah into itself - in fact, it seemed to be the gem's sole purpose. It was so subtle Aini might have missed it if he hadn't been staring quite so hard. The gem drew in the mist and Sa'akah's body breathed it back out in a seemingly endless cycle.

Sa'akah chuckled. "Nothing escapes your eye, does it?"

Aini allowed Sa'akah to pull his hand away, at a loss for words. Sa'akah absently rubbed his palm. "Another token of Solomon's. I believe it's one of the four jewels that once adorned his ring."

"How did you _find_ something like that?" Aini asked. His thoughts floated to Mumyi, whom they'd only met a day and a half previous who also possessed a magick gem. He wondered vaguely if it was more than coincidence.

Sa'akah shook his hand to allow a weathered leather band to slip from his sleeve, wound around his wrist.

"Rim. He set it in the bracelet he gave me. 'A good luck charm', he called it." Sa'akah's hand balled into a fist, fingertips firmly pressed against the cool jewel. "When Sharik attacked me, it just sort of… _melded_ into my hand. I'm still not sure why, or how. Then again, I'm sure none of the jewels act appropriately when they are separate from one another. They were meant to act as one, after all."

"So… If we have the gem of water, Mumyi has the gem of wind… This is either the gem of animal, or…" Aini trailed off uncomfortably.

"Spirit." Sa'akah continued for the boy. "It's sealing my soul inside of my body, more than likely."

Aini wrung his hands together absently. "Is that… _Good_?"

Sa'akah smiled gently. "I'm never sure. I'd be dead without it, I assume. If you want to think of it this way, Sharik killed me the night of the fire. The gem grabbed my soul as it was leaving and stuffed it back into my body. So you might think of it as saving my life, but you might also think of it like a parasite that is keeping a dead body alive with its own soul."

"Don't-" Without thinking, Aini stepped forward and grabbed Sa'akah's sleeve in his hand, drawing in a shivering breath. He let it out slowly, regaining his composure and releasing the dark sleeve. "Don't say something like that…"

"Sorry," Sa'akah offered in a soft voice.

Aini rubbed at his eyes, trying hard not to cry again. "Sa'akah… When are you planning on telling Rim all of this?" He sniffled. "He deserves to know."

"Finding the right time will be difficult," Sa'akah answered, rubbing the back of his neck. "There are much more important things he needs to be aware of than my personal misfortunes."

"Like…?" Aini asked in concern.

Sa'akah glanced down the dark corridor and sighed. "You were being pulled in that direction, yes?" As Aini followed his gaze, Sa'akah tapped his staff against the floor, and three light orbs blossomed from thin air. "I wanted to give you both a couple of stress-free nights before telling you, but I should have known you wouldn't be able to rest until you got to the bottom of things. Follow me: I've something to show you."

.

.

.

A fluttering moan escaped Najiya's dry throat, his back arching as Reem found new depths inside of him. He rocked his hips down in a gentle but sensual rhythm, meeting Reem's well-timed thrusts. The bedroom filled with soft noises of pleasure as well as the clapping of hot, sweaty skin meeting over and over.

Morning light shone through the cracks in the wooden shutters, laying luminous stripes over Najiya's face and chest as he groaned and ground down. They were more vocal than usual this morning, a freedom they could hardly get used to; usually the twins were only a room away, and their lovemaking was usually muted by Najiya biting into the blankets and Reem's teeth firmly anchoring into his bottom lip. Since Ru'a and Rani had slept at Makarim's, however, Reem and Najiya found themselves granted a rare chance at don't-bother-to-lock-the-door, be-as-loud-as-you-want-just-don't-alert-the-neighbors morning sex.

A warm trickle of sweat worked its way down Najiya's brow and slid down his cheek. With a gasp, he smiled down at Reem.

"I feel… like we're doing something… bad…" he panted with a chuckle. He hissed, clenching around Reem's hot, intruding length.

Reem wound his fingers around Najiya's flushed penis, stroking it with their thrusts. Najiya tossed his head back and let out a beautiful choking gasp.

"It's merely rare… to not have to worry about disturbing the children, isn't it?" Reem answered, hot precum leaking over his fingers. "It's really no different than what we usually do…"

" _Y-yes…_ " Najiya agreed, but he may have been approving of the things Reem was currently busying himself with. Reem sucked in a breath and shut his eyes, feeling the pressure build. Najiya felt it too, twisting and hot, a knot of pleasure in his stomach coupled with the unmistakable feeling of Reem's cock swelling with the anticipation of release.

"Don't stop… _Haah_ , don't stop… don't- _Ahh… Ahh_..." Najiya's voice was broken and desperate, his hips working furiously to bring Reem to completion. Reem could have laughed - it was hard enough to hold out as it was, there was no way he could stop even if he tried.

"Najiya… Najiya…" Reem's head felt light, his focus gone and his body reacting purely to Najiya's whims. His hands slipped to Najiya's waist and held him in a vice, bucking into him recklessly as he felt his balls draw up and tighten with his load. Najiya intentionally spread his legs and arched his back to bury Reem inside of him even more deeply - a tactic he often used when he felt Reem dangling on the edge - and Reem's head hit the pillows with force when he came, planting Najiya firmly in his lap as he released his hot seed deep inside.

Tears formed behind Najiya's eyes as he came - loud and wet - all over Reem's stomach and chest. The familiar heat and wetness erupting within him usually finished him off, but he so rarely got to _yell_ that his orgasm seemed so much more intense than it usually was. With a groan Najiya flopped forward and Reem shakily caught him, the two men holding each other for some time as they collectively caught their breath.

Reem kissed Najiya's forehead, his cheek, and then his mouth. "Don't fall asleep," he gently reminded, running his fingers through Najiya's hair. The blonde laughed weakly.

"We have a lot to do today," Najiya agreed, fighting his drowsiness. "Rim's coming back, too."

"Mm,"

"I'm really excited to see him. We didn't know each other for very long, but I hope he thinks of me as a friend." Najiya mused. He angled his head to better view Reem with curious eyes. "Are you excited to see Rim, too?"

"Yes," Reem admitted. "though I'm a bit nervous. I worked under him for several years, so it's almost as though I'll be meeting him for the very first time. It will take a lot of practice to stop calling him 'prince' to his face, I expect."

"Or 'your highness'," Najiya added with a chuckle. His laugh faded with a cough and he grimaced. " _Ahhhhh…_ It hurts to laugh."

"Are you alright?" Reem asked worriedly. "Was I too rough?"

"No, _I_ was too rough," Najiya explained with a rosy smile. "Don't worry about anything, it was perfect. Besides, I like feeling it afterwards, you know?"

Before Reem had a chance to object Najiya was kissing him. Reem's worries melted away as he pulled Najiya closer and kissed him deeply, fingers slipping into the boy's blonde hair.

A voice cut through the peaceful morning silence like an arrow whizzing through the air.

"Are you two almost done, or… Should I come back later maybe?"

The next three seconds were lost in a flurry of shouting, screaming and flying blankets. When finally the dust settled, Reem had somehow successfully covered their bodies with a large fleece blanket and Najiya was brandishing a broom handle that he had mistakenly grabbed in place of the knife that Reem kept near the bed.

A pair of large brown eyes guiltily blinked at them from the other end of the room. "Ah, maybe I should have done that 'knocking' thing?" Miss Maha said apologetically. "I didn't really think this through."

"M- Miss Maha?!" Reem squeaked, his voice stuck in a regrettably higher pitch. "What- What are you-? _Why-_?"

Najiya let out a whine and slumped forward, the broom handle toppling to the floor. "You _scared_ us!"

" _Scared_?!" Reem's voice was practically a screech. " _Scared_ isn't the word I would have used!" He turned his accusatory attention to Maha, who was floating near the door with a casual air, her chin resting in her palms. " _You_! How long were you…. _Watching_?"

Maha's eyes rolled upward in thought, and she considered her answer carefully. "Not _too_ long." She frowned. "Since the end part? I'm not entirely sure how humans section time during intimate sessions, sorry."

Reem looked at a loss for words, his face pale and screwed in embarrassed indignation. The surprise seemed to have worn off on Najiya, and he stretched his arms upward, fighting off a yawn.

"Is there a reason you came by, Maha?" Najiya asked curiously, hoping to derail Reem's humiliation. Maha nodded.

"I needed to talk to you two about something before everyone gets together. It's important. At least, I _think_ it is."

"...surprised I can relax at all, knowing what I know about djinn… Who's to say they aren't watching _all the time_? How _indecent…_ "

"Something important?" Najiya prodded, sympathetically patting Reem on the back as the man mumbled miserably into his hands. "What is it?"

"I'm concerned about the boy they brought back, the brother of Siraj al Din. More specifically, I'm concerned about the object he has with him."

"His pendant?" Najiya chimed. "Ghazi told us he can summon wind storms with it, or something like that."

"Yes, well, that's because it's the jewel of wind," Maha sighed. "It belongs on Solomon's ring."

"Haru mentioned that. What's the trouble?" Najiya asked.

Maha floated past the bed, arms crossed. "The trouble is that besides the jewel that Mumyi possesses and the jewel of water we retrieved from Sharik, I sense another jewel in the city. Now that I'm properly healed up, I'm sure I can sense _three_ jewels in the city right now."

"A third one?" Najiya asked, mouth open in awe.

Reem removed his face from his hands, looking vaguely interested. "Where is it? Is it nearby?"

Maha's shoulders sagged. "I wish I knew. I can't exactly sniff them out. All djinn can sense them, though, and I'm no different."

"Is that… A _good_ thing?" Najiya asked curiously. "Having a third one around?"

"I'm not sure," Maha admitted. "It depends on who has it, I expect. The jewels aren't incredibly extraordinary on their own. The water jewel and the wind jewel are probably the most powerful, and we have them both. The jewel of animal is practically pointless on its own, and the jewel of spirit has unusual abilities that I can't imagine could be applied successfully without use of the Seal. That's not really what I'm concerned about, anyway."

"So, then…?"

Maha sighed. "A rumor is known among djinn about the Seal of Solomon. I don't know where it started and honestly I never really gave it any merit, but the general idea is this: If a great calamity is to befall the land, the four jewels will come together so that the Seal of Solomon can be made whole again."

"That's frustratingly vague." Reem pointed out.

"It's just an old legend, there are a million variations!" Maha countered. "That's just the _gist_. Listen, it's strange enough that we've happened to meet someone who possesses one of the jewels… But for another one to show up…?"

"Going by what the legend says, though, wouldn't the jewels have come together when Sharik tried raising an army of djinn?" Najiya asked. "That seemed like a pretty big calamity, right?"

Maha clapped her hands together sharply. " _Now_ you're finally understanding why I'm concerned!" she said crossly. "If this story happens to be true, what could be _worse_ than what Sharik attempted to do?"

Reem rubbed a hand through his unkempt hair. "I understand your concern, but do you have any other reason to think something sinister might be occurring? I hate to be overly positive, but everything appears to be going rather-" Reem's thoughts drifted to the soldiers of Sama Al-Kah that were possibly still camped outside the city and immediately became uneasy.

Maha sighed. "I haven't been to the Other World in a while. I've been spending too much time in a physical body, I suppose… While I was healing, I noticed some things weren't quite right on the other side."

"Like what?" Najiya asked.

"Well… I can't really describe it, can I?" Maha said, putting her hands on her hips. "You've never been there. All I can say is that everything felt… Disjointed. Like it was all falling to pieces. It was strange."

"What do you think it means?" Najiya continued, rising from the bed and leaving the safety of the blankets. As he crossed the room to the wash basin, Reem made a gurgling, hissing sort of noise that may have been an attempted shriek of horror.

" _Najiya_! What are you- _We're not_ alone _here, you realize_ …!"

"Huh?" Najiya grabbed a washcloth and dunked it in the basin. "It's just Miss Maha, though. She's not even human! She doesn't mind seeing me naked, do you Miss Maha?"

"Can't say I care in the least," Maha answered with a shrug.

Najiya pointed at Maha with his free hand as if for proof. "See?"

Reem covered his face in his hands yet again, groaning in agony. "Even so, she's a _lady…_!"

"I could change into a man, if that would help," Maha offered.

"Oooh, do it, do it!" Najiya cheered.

"Why are you acting as if you've never seen her change her shape before?!" Reem exclaimed in frustration.

"I just thought-"

"Can we _please_ stick to the matter at hand?" Maha interrupted impatiently. "I came to you because I was hoping you would take this more seriously!"

"Alright, alright," Reem sighed and grabbed his eye glasses from the window sill beside him, carefully putting them on. "I'm trying to take it seriously, I really am. But if I might ask, why come to _us_ with all of this? Have you spoken to Haru? Wouldn't he have more insight, given his previous life as a djinn?"

Maha's lips pursed and her gaze dropped to the floor. "Hafa seems… Distracted. Troubled. I need someone I can really depend on to keep a sharp eye. The men from Sama Al-Kah might have something to do with all the strange happenings, so I was thinking of sneaking into their camp and seeing what I can turn up."

Najiya had finished cleaning himself and was in the middle of pulling on his pants when he halted. "The last time you went to investigate something, you got _really_ hurt. Are you sure you're okay?"

Maha waved a dainty hand dismissively. "A cursed palace in the middle of the desert is a tad bit different than a camp full of dull humans," she pointed out airily. "I think I can manage."

"As long as you feel up to it." Reem said. "We'll help out however we can."

"You just concern yourself with seeing your friend again, for now." Maha said. "Just stay sharp."

Reem nodded. "Got it. Now, if you don't mind, could you _please leave_ so that I may dress?!"

.

.

.

Hafa wasn't sure what woke him up. It may have been the songbird incessantly chirping just outside the shop, or perhaps he hadn't really achieved any proper sleep to begin with. As he lay staring at the ceiling, Rani sprawled over his legs and Ru'a snoring on her stomach beside him, Hafa wondered how he had managed to sleep at all. He turned his head to the side, looking for Makarim. He was lying next to Ru'a, turned away from them, bundled tightly in the blankets, his breathing deep and slow. Hafa watched the rising and falling of his shoulders for a moment before looking away. His chest tight, he gingerly worked to remove Rani from his legs so that he could leave the bed. There was no way he was going back to sleep at this point. He needed to take a walk. After everything that had happened the day before, his thoughts were in turmoil and no amount of rest was going to alleviate him.

After meeting the man named Khuzama in the street, Hafa had fled and ran until he simply couldn't run anymore. Breathless, he had found himself on the other side of town, and although he had been running completely blind, Makarim had somehow found him. He'd felt so foolish. Gasping and red-faced, Makarim had apologized to him. He _apologized_. After everything Hafa was keeping from him - after the childish display in the street - Makarim was willing to take responsibility and put things right. Even when he wasn't to blame in the slightest. Hafa had been too ashamed to say anything worthwhile. They had traveled back home together in relative silence.

What had he done to deserve someone as selfless as Makarim? Hafa couldn't fathom it. He'd never accomplished anything significant as a djinn that he could recall, and his time as a human had been extraordinarily dull aside from his extended bout of immortality. Makarim was the epitome of patience. Perhaps it came from lending a hand in raising his little siblings. Something told him it was simply Makarim's nature. Either way, he didn't deserve someone like him.

Fortunately for Hafa this morning, Rani was an impossibly sound sleeper. After gently rolling the sleeping boy off of his legs, Hafa carefully left the bed and stood up to stretch. He pulled on his shirt and scarf and silently climbed down the ladder, leaving the children of Tahiyah sleeping soundly up above. He would tell Makarim today. After Rim came back and everyone was together and safe, he would tell Makarim everything. He didn't care if Sa'akah disapproved. Makarim deserved the truth, and for that matter, so did Rim.

Glancing out the downstairs window, Hafa realized it was earlier than he thought. The sun was peeking over the buildings, framed by blue, pink and orange hues. The streets were bare aside from a few early risers - merchants preparing to set up shop, more than likely - and Hafa decided to prepare some breakfast after returning from his walk. After everything that had happened the last couple of days, he felt it was the very least he could do.

Upon grabbing a basket and leaving the shop, a voice immediately caught Hafa's ear. It was speaking softly but adamantly, chuckling on occasion, though Hafa could not hear a second voice. Furthermore, the voice sounded familiar. It seemed to be coming from the front of Makarim's shop, where Hafa's camel was hitched.

Hafa peered around the side of the shop and instantly regretted it. Standing in front of his camel, leaning near the animal's face as if he were conversing with it, stood Khuzama. He was petting the animal's nose with one hand, his other hand absently tugging at one of his glittering pink earrings.

If Hafa hadn't been so unpleasantly surprised to see him, he might have pondered more on Khuzama's reasons for striking up a one-sided conversation with his camel; before he could consider it, Khuzama noticed Hafa's presence and flashed him a friendly smile, giving his camel a farewell pat on the nose. Hafa had the wild urge to turn and flee, but he firmly suppressed it. Now that he had a chance to talk to this man without Makarim around, Hafa felt determined to set the record straight.

"Hey there!" Khuzama called merrily, making his way over to Hafa. "Sorry for showing up unannounced. It's Haru, right?"

Hafa braced himself for another unwelcome embrace, already planning evasive action in his mind, but none came. Khuzama stopped just in front of him, brushing some peach-colored hair away from his eyes. "Your camel is sweet. Smart, too."

"How did you know he was mine?" Hafa asked with a frown. "And how did you know I was here?"

Khuzama's smile lit up his entire face in a way that deeply annoyed Hafa. It was a knowing smile that had no intention of being remotely truthful. Whether or not he was being malicious about it was unknown, but Hafa honestly didn't care either way.

"I'm a Mystic. I can see the unseen, and know the unknown. It's my specialty!"

"Why are you here?" Hafa asked. "I told you yesterday, I'm not-"

"I know, I know! I believe you," Khuzama interrupted apologetically, still smiling. "I came to apologize for putting you on the spot yesterday. I didn't realize- Well, it's not important. You look so much like Nanasuh, but it's been years since I've seen him… I just got a little overzealous. Sorry for making things awkward for you."

Hafa relaxed somewhat. "It's… fine." He couldn't help but feel unconvinced. "You didn't have to come all the way here just for that."

"I guess I didn't, but I had nothing _else_ to do this morning," Khuzama said. "Say, what are you up to? Early morning shopping, maybe?"

"Something like that."

"Mind if I join you? This city is _huge_ and I still don't quite know my way around. Show me?"

Hafa wanted to refuse, but he felt it wouldn't make a difference. As much as he hated to admit it, there were still things he wanted to ask Khuzama. Things he needed to know. The sooner he got answers, he could rest easier.

"Do what you want."

.

.

.

"So you can cook, Haru?" Khuzama's eyes were trained on the basket Hafa was carrying and the various ingredients inside.

"I've only tried it a couple of times, but it wasn't hard."

"That's amazing!" Khuzama exclaimed. Hafa didn't really see how it was amazing in the slightest. "I fail miserably every time I attempt."

Hafa wasn't sure what Khuzama wanted him to say, or why he was even still trying to carry on a conversation. If he truly thought he was a different person than Nanasuh, then why was he wasting even a moment hanging around him? If he has things he wants to ask, he should just say so, Hafa thinks.

Stopping in the street, Hafa turned to Khuzama with a firm expression. "Khuzama. About Nanasuh…"

Khuzama stopped at the name, and although Hafa expected the man's spirits to lower from the mention of it, Khuzama turned around to face him with a pleasant smile. "Yes?"

"What kind of person was he?" Hafa asked. Khuzama laughed through his nose.

"Why the curiosity all of a sudden?"

"I just…"

"It's okay, really. I don't mind at all. You just took me off-guard; you haven't said anything to me yet without being prompted first." Khuzama stretched his arms above his head with a refreshed sigh. "Nanasuh was the son of our tribe's leader. We were all like family… Nomads from all different walks of life who came together somehow or another. We traveled the desert, never in one place for too long, selling wares and finding odd jobs along the way. Nanasuh was particularly well-liked… Everyone loved and trusted him. He was good at anything he put his mind to. Both of my parents died when I was young, so Nanasuh took me under his wing, taught me trades and listened to me when I needed someone to talk to. Back then, my little brother was only two years old, so it was nice to have someone older than me to rely on."

Hafa intently stared at the street as Khuzama spoke, uncertain of how to feel. The person Khuzama was describing was the same skin he wore now. Thinking this, he almost felt guilty.

"A sickness spread through the tribe and we were forced to make camp. We didn't have enough medicine on hand, and many of us were too sick to make the journey to the nearest town… Nanasuh was chosen to leave and find medicine to bring back. As I think you've gathered, he never came back."

Another wave of guilt washed over Hafa. "So… You and Nanasuh...?"

Khuzama stared at Hafa with a perked brow. "Hm?"

Hafa frowned and glanced away. He was positive Khuzama knew what he was asking - making him ask outright was annoying. "You hugged me when you thought I was Nanasuh. I just wondered how close you were."

"Are you asking if we were involved in some way?" Khuzama asked with a frustratingly teasing smile.

"...Forget it."

"Aw, don't be mad!" Khuzama laughed and attempted to rest his arm playfully on Hafa's shoulder. The attempt was immediately rebuffed, but it didn't seem to dampen his spirits any. "The answer is _no_ , we weren't involved. When Nanasuh left, I was… Let's see, twelve years old, I think?"

Hafa breathed an internal sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what difference it made, but knowing that Khuzama had no intimate connection to his body seemed to alleviate worries he hadn't wanted to admit he had. It seemed such a stupid, earthly thing to concern himself with, but he couldn't help it.

"That isn't to say I wasn't _head over heels_ in love with him, though," Khuzama continued matter-of-factly. "It was hard not to be, you know?"

"You mentioned a little brother." Hafa blurted out, hoping to change the subject. It was impossible to tell if Khuzama was joking or not; even if he was, it didn't make things less uncomfortable.

At the mention of his brother, Khuzama smiled fondly. "His name is Haytham. He's turning eight this year." Khuzama's smile flickered by the tiniest of margins. "He doesn't remember Nanasuh, he was too young. Ever since Nanasuh left, it's been just the two of us. He means the world to me."

Once again, Hafa was left with nothing to say. He chose to begin walking again, slowly weaving through the marketplace. Khuzama wordlessly followed, matching his pace.

"I hope you find Nanasuh." Hafa said, the words stinging him.

Khuzama chuckled. "Thanks. I don't think I will, though. I think I've always known that he didn't make it. And I think you know that, too."

Hafa's footsteps halted. He stared at the back of Khuzama's head mutely, his silence a testament of his guilt. Khuzama turned to him with a grin, leaning in close and tapping the golden adornment around Hafa's waist, just as he had the previous day. "I'll let you keep this, anyway. Think of it as a good luck charm." The man placed his hands on his hips. "And speaking of luck, how about I give you a free reading?"

"I don't-"

"I _insist_. It'll only take a moment, I promise." Leaving no room for debate, Khuzama grabbed one of Hafa's hands and pulled it toward him, palm-side up. He gently trailed one of his fingers along the more prominent line of Hafa's hand. "Ah, I see. It's a warning, I believe. A warning that danger is near. As soon as possible, you should gather all of your loved ones and leave this city." He looked from Hafa's hand to his eyes. His smile had melted and his eyes were intense; Hafa couldn't look away. "This city isn't very well-protected, is it? Any day now, something _horrible_ could happen. If you don't act quickly, something horrible might happen to you, as well."

Hafa was momentarily jarred by Khuzama's words. He stared at him, trying to discern his meaning. "Is that… a threat, of some kind?" he asked.

Khuzama smiled and released Hafa's hand. "Not a threat. A prediction, perhaps. I'm a Mystic, remember? The spirits guide me, and I faithfully relay their words." He laughed. "Or something like that."

"Then what do you-"

"It's almost the afternoon, isn't it?" Khuzama asked, looking at the sky. "I better get going. I won't keep you any longer." With a cheerful wave, Khuzama turned and started off toward the heart of the city, a bounce in his step. "See you around, Haru!"

Hafa stood there for some time, gripping his basket so hard the straw dug smartly into his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone’s getting frisky! Is there something in the water?
> 
> So when selecting a name for Kisumi's little brother Hayato, I just went with the same formula I always do: look for an arabic name that starts with the same letter and roughly the same length (if one exists.) I immediately found Haytham, which I liked because it had more than one letter in common. The second thing I look for is meaning, because I like to try and find a relevant meaning if I can. 
> 
> Haytham: Young eagle  
> Hayato: Falcon/falcon person
> 
> whAT THE BUTT


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makarim comes down with a fever, Aini has a dream, and an uninvited someone lets the cat out of the bag.

"Haru, you're back!"

Ru'a threw her small arms around Hafa's waist, hugging him as he walked through the door. She glanced at the basket full of food items he was carrying, her head cocked. "Are you going to make breakfast?"

"Yes," Hafa answered, maneuvering into the kitchen area with Ru'a clinging to him. "Is Makarim awake?"

Ru'a shook her head. "Everyone else slept in except for Mumyi, he left before I woke up."

Hafa frowned. "He did?" He found it odd that their new friend would leave without telling anyone, but he didn't feel too concerned. He'd done the same thing, after all. Mumyi was among strangers, so it wasn't exactly a surprise that he'd want some time to himself. He might have even been looking for clues as to Siraj al Din's whereabouts. That's what Hafa would have been doing, had he been in Mumyi's place.

The little girl nodded. "Ghazi is still asleep in the other room, too. Should I wake everyone up?"

As if on cue, Rani walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning hugely. "I'm hungry," the boy said drowsily. He didn't seem to be totally aware of his surroundings yet; Hafa had to strategically pull a chair out of the way to avoid a direct collision. Ru'a shook her head disapprovingly.

"Ru'a, you wake up Ghazi. I'll wake Makarim and then start breakfast."

"Okay!" Ru'a chimed obediently, mussing her brother's hair playfully before skipping out of the room. Rani swatted her hand away long after she'd left, his reaction time laughably sluggish. Hafa steered Rani to a chair and gently sat him down. The boy didn't even think to resist, immediately laying his head on the table with a tired sigh.

Upon climbing the ladder to the bedroom, Hafa immediately noticed that Makarim hadn't moved from the position he'd been in when Hafa left that morning. Concerned, Hafa approached the bedside and sat next to Makarim, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Makarim. Wake up."

Makarim's brow twitched in reply, his eyes barely opening. He was silent for a long moment before his eyes shifted to Hafa's face, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

"Haru… Good morning."

"Morning." Hafa frowned. "Do you feel okay? Your face looks red." Before giving Makarim a chance to answer, Hafa placed his hand flat against Makarim's forehead. "You're warm."

"Am I?" Makarim asked. "That's strange, I still feel pretty cold."

"You're sick," Hafa stated. "You need to stay in bed today."

Makarim's eyes opened and he made to get up. "I can't be sick, Rim and Aini are coming back! I'm sure if I just got up and moved around a little-"

"Makarim," Hafa gripped Makarim's shoulder and gently eased him back down. "You'll just worry everyone if you push yourself. Stay in bed for now, and I'll bring you up some breakfast in a bit. Rim and Aini will understand."

Almost immediately, Makarim seemed to lose the will to argue. He slumped against the bedding and allowed Hafa to cover him back up with blankets. "You're right…" he said. "Really bad timing to get sick, huh?"

"Sickness doesn't have any regard for timing," Hafa pointed out. "Just focus on feeling better."

"Have you ever been sick, Haru?" Makarim asked curiously. "When you were a djinn?"

Some time ago, the answer might have come to Hafa almost instantly; now, recalling such ancient memories was like digging barehanded through rock and gravel to unearth pieces of something that used to resemble a memory.

"I don't think so," Hafa answered. "I can't really remember."

"Ahh."

Makarim sounded concerned. Hafa cleared his throat.

"Now that I'm human, I'm sure it won't be long until I come down with something. I'll have to do my best to take care of you so that you'll take care of me, too."

Makarim chuckled. "Of course," he said with a soft smile, pulling the blankets more tightly around himself.

.

.

.

Hafa knew only the basics of preparing food. It wasn't as if djinn didn't eat food as humans did, but cooking was usually unneeded and seen as a waste of time. Still, in the short time Hafa had lived with Makarim he had gotten the hang of it, even if the things he could prepare were incredibly simplistic. No one complained as they ate their breakfast, and those who were awake enough made sure to compliment the food. Hafa barely heard them. His thoughts were firmly resting with Makarim and he couldn't seem to distract himself. As the children and guest ate their food and chatted, Hafa excused himself to take some food up to Makarim.

Climbing the ladder to Makarim's room one-handed while carrying a tray of food wasn't nearly as easy as Hafa assumed it would be; regardless, somehow he reached the top without having spilled anything. What he saw as he stepped onto the landing was Makarim very much out of bed, pulling his clothes on. Hafa frowned.

"Makarim-"

"Oh, Haru!" Makarim smiled, embarrassed. "Did you bring that up for me? I wish I'd gotten down there sooner, I could have saved you the trouble…"

"You really shouldn't be up, Makarim."

"It's okay, Haru. I don't know how, but I feel just fine now!" Walking over to Hafa, Makarim leaned forward with a smile. "Feel for yourself."

Hafa placed his free hand against Makarim's forehead, his frown slowly receding. Somehow or other, Makarim no longer felt warm and his face no longer looked rosy with fever. Hafa wasn't sure how, but Makarim appeared to be fine.

"You're sure you feel okay?" Hafa asked.

Makarim nodded. "I feel great. I just had to wake up a little more, I suppose." He glanced at the wooden tray Hafa was holding. "Haru, did you make that? It looks delicious!"

"Mm. If you're feeling better, come downstairs and eat with everyone."

"Right. Let's go!"

As Makarim started toward the ladder, Hafa had a wild surge of inspiration and grabbed Makarim's arm, garnering a surprised look from him.

"Haru? Something wrong?"

When trying to think of how to address any of the important issues he'd been keeping to himself, Hafa hadn't really come up with any sort of concrete plan. Now that they were alone and everyone downstairs was otherwise distracted, he wasn't sure he wanted to pass up the opportunity.

"Makarim… There's something I need to-"

A high-pitched shriek from downstairs silenced Hafa aggressively, and both men stared at each other in surprise. It was undoubtedly Ghazi's voice. Neither man wasted any time in reaching the ground floor, rushing to the kitchen in a near-panic.

Both of them immediately relaxed. Rim and Aini stood just inside the door, Ghazi hugging her brother tightly whilst sobbing. Rim kissed her hair, looking like he might cry himself.

"You're really here… You're okay!" Ghazi cried, her voice muffled against Rim's chest. He chuckled, cradling the back of her head.

"Yeah. Sorry I'm late."

"I missed you! Dammit, we looked _everywhere_ for you…"

"I know, Aini told me. Thanks for looking."

Ghazi pulled away, sniffling, and Rim placed his hand on the crown of her head, jostling her playfully. She giggled, trying and failing to swat his hand away. He grinned. "I missed you too, little sister." Rim's gaze shifted to Hafa and Makarim. "'Morning."

"Good morning, Rim," Makarim offered with a smile. "I'm glad you two made it here safely! Did Sa'akah come with you?"

Rim jerked a thumb behind him at the door. "He's-"

"Excuse me for intruding," Sa'akah said, stepping into the house. Both Rani and Ru'a's mouths fell open when the man entered; neither of them had seen anyone taller than their older brother before.

Ghazi had just started wiping her tears away when she laid eyes on Sa'akah, and they immediately reemerged. She walked over to Sa'akah and looked up at him with a stern, penetrating stare. A moment later, another sob burst from her pink lips.

"Sa'akah… They told me already, but actually _seeing_ you here…"

Sa'akah smiled warmly at the girl. "It's been a while, Ghazi."

"What happened to you?" Ghazi asked tearfully. "Where have you been this entire time? Have you been okay? Safe?"

Sa'akah chuckled awkwardly. "It's a long story. I really don't want to bore you." From beside Sa'akah, Aini shifted uncomfortably.

"Rani, Ru'a, come over here," Makarim prompted gently, and the twins left the table and approached their brother, both of them clinging shyly to his thawb. "Rim, Sa'akah, these are my siblings Rani and Ru'a. What do you say, you two?"

"Nice to meet you," the twins chimed in unison.

Rim smiled at them, though he looked vaguely apologetic; Hafa wondered if Rim was harboring any guilt about what happened to their father. Either way, it didn't seem as if Rim thought it an appropriate thing to bring up at such a time.

"You too," Rim said, and Sa'akah nodded politely.

"Did you really wander the desert all alone, just like Haru?" Ru'a asked boldly, the tension seeming to have left her much more quickly than her brother.

Rim grinned. "Yeah, though not for quite as long."

"Was it hard?" Ru'a asked. Rani was staring at Rim imploringly, awaiting an answer.

"It… wasn't fun," Rim said with a laugh. "That doesn't matter now, though. Thanks to Aini, Ghazi and Hafa, I found my way back."

Ru'a smiled and nodded. Ghazi wiped at her eyes again, and then cleared her throat, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. "I have a great idea! Lets make a big dinner for everyone tonight! We'll all pitch in and help, and have ourselves a great feast in celebration!"

The twins immediately perked up at the idea, and Makarim offered his kitchen for the event just as Reem and Najiya appeared to welcome the travelers home. As everyone talked and planned, Hafa watched them all, finding it difficult to believe that reality was collapsing just outside of this happy scene. He glanced out the window, looking up at the sky; the clouds above them seemed to be moving much too quickly.

.

.

.

"Jewelry? Really?" Rim asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "A lot's changed since I left, huh?"

"We just opened shop a couple of months ago!" Najiya said, his mouth half-full of food. "We're getting really popular around here!"

"Who designs the jewelry?" Aini asked curiously, wiping at his mouth with a bit of cloth. Najiya's mouth was officially too full to answer, so he simply stared at Reem with eyes sparkling with respect.

"That would be me," Reem answered with a smile. "I think up the most beautiful designs, and Najiya secures the materials to make them. He's amazing at bartering, and even more amazing at finding raw materials outside the city to use. Together, we're a rather formidable team!"

Makarim chuckled. "You're absolutely right about that. People have been coming all the way from _Mecca_ to buy your jewelry."

Rim sat up, rotating his arm pointedly. "How's the arm, Najiya?"

"All better!" Najiya chimed, mimicking Rim with his own arm. "Better than ever!"

"That was a bad break," Rim observed, grabbing another slice of bread. "I was worried it wouldn't heal right."

Najiya nearly choked on his food. "You were worried about me, Rim?" Najiya asked, Reem sitting back to avoid any food spray that tended to occur when Najiya spoke while eating. "That's super sweet!"

"Don't make it weird," Rim chided, taking another large spoonful of rice. Hafa watched curiously as Rim continued to pile rice on his plate, inwardly amused. He could still remember bits and pieces of his time with Rim when he was a marid, and it seemed as though his appetite hadn't changed.

As agreed, a huge dinner had been prepared for everyone as evening fell on the city. Ghazi had been initially worried that they didn't make enough, but as dinner neared an end, it seemed they made too much. Mumyi hadn't returned. In the midst of their collective joy of safely receiving Rim and Sa'akah, everyone was finding it hard to be concerned. Hafa had thought Mumyi would have returned to them by now, but he fully acknowledged that any number of reasons could have been keeping Mumyi from coming back. Perhaps he simply didn't want to. He had no real loyalty to them to begin with. The only connection they shared was Siraj al Din and the jewel he wore around his neck - neither of which were insignificant by any means - but with Siraj al Din still missing, he knew Mumyi likely didn't feel much of a need to stick around. Regardless of these perfectly reasonable possibilities, Hafa wondered if something else might have occurred.

"How is mortality treating you, Hafa?" Rim asked, snapping Hafa out of his thoughts. Hafa looked up to meet Rim's eyes. "Is it manageable?"

Hafa felt acutely aware of Sa'akah sitting to the left of Rim, though the man was busying himself with eating, paying no mind to the conversation.

"It's fine." Hafa said truthfully. "I'm still learning many things, but none of it is confusing."

"No complaints, then?" Rim continued. It sounded as though he was asking out of guilt, which made Hafa feel oddly guilty in turn.

"I miss being able to skip sleeping and eating. Being human is very demanding. If you forget to do something for too long, you can die so easily."

"That's… a very grim way of looking at it," Ghazi commented. Only half-listening to the conversation, Miss Maha flicked her fluffy cat tail, nuzzling into a tighter ball in Ru'a lap. The little girl giggled and pet Maha's head.

"I think it's interesting!" Najiya exclaimed. "Things that are so natural to us are completely different from how djinn live!"

"I honestly never expected to have a conversation like this during dinner so _casually…_ " Makarim said with a chuckle. Reem nodded stoically in agreement.

"Speaking of… _that_ sort of thing. You guys used the same hookah to save me, right? Where is it?"

Makarim set his utensils down. "It's in the basement, safe and sound. We've been keeping it in a locked chest, just in case."

"Ah, I appreciate it."

"Did you want to see it?" Makarim offered.

Setting down his goblet with some finality, Sa'akah spoke. "I'd like some time to observe the nature of the curse before reuniting Rim with his soul. So long as that's alright with you, Rim."

"Whatever you think is best is fine. I'm not really in a hurry or anything," Rim answered easily, yawning and stretching.

The conversation dissolved into something rather silly as the company finished off their food, Najiya at the helm. As they talked and laughed and drank, Hafa excused himself, stepping outside through the back door to sit on the stairs, breathing in the cool night air. All of the merriment was wearing him thin, though he was far from ungrateful for it. He was frustrated with himself. He had resolved to tell Makarim everything Sa'akah had told him, but how could he now? Seeing Makarim happily chatting with the others completely squashed his resolution. Before the joyful get-together came to a close tonight, he needed to figure out what to do.

The door behind Hafa opened for a moment, unleashing the exuberant noise from the kitchen before shutting and muting it again. Hafa assumed Makarim had come out to check on him, but before he could turn around to see for himself, a deep voice stopped him from doing so.

"You were very quiet during dinner. Have you decided?"

Hafa frowned, his hands gripping his elbows, his chin digging into his arm. "Can't we talk about this later?" Hafa asked quietly.

"We don't exactly have the luxury of time," Sa'akah said with a sigh, descending the sparse steps to stand near Hafa. "I hope you realize it's much too early to be this dark."

Hafa hadn't even noticed - too absorbed in his thoughts - but Sa'akah was right. Hafa was quiet for a moment.

"If affects the sun and moon?" he finally asked, perhaps a tad waspishly.

"I don't think it does. I believe it's only our conception of the time flow that is changed, if that makes any sense."

It didn't make much sense to Hafa, but in all fairness, nothing Sa'akah said did.

"Well?" Sa'akah prompted. "Have you had enough time to think it over?"

It wasn't as much a decision as an obligation. If it would reverse such an impossible event, then it wasn't even a question. He had to do it, no matter how frightening the concept was. Still, Sa'akah's prodding was irksome, regardless of how necessary it was.

"Can I ask you some questions?" Hafa asked. "When we first talked… it was a lot of information to take in all at once."

"Ask away." Sa'akah said easily.

Hafa took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slow. "You said before… you weren't _sure_ that giving this body back to the sands would make a difference. Is that still true?"

"There's no point in lying about it," Sa'akah said. "There's no clear solution. To be honest with you, I can't even say that I'm positive about the Unholy Events - that's simply what I was told by the ghul who guard the Palace, and since things have been unfolding per their prediction, I have no choice but to take them at their word."

"So I might die for nothing?" Hafa asked softly.

A long silence filled the air between them. Sa'akah moved to sit on the steps, a respectable distance from Hafa.

"Maybe. To be bluntly honest, I don't think it will do any good. Our realm and the Other World are pressing on each other, bending each other to the breaking point. With such powerful forces opposing each other, I find it hard to believe that two bodies would impact the progress in any way."

Hafa's eyes flicked to Sa'akah. "Two?"

Sa'akah flashed him a disheartened smile. "You won't be making the sacrifice alone, if it makes you feel any better. I'll be joining you."

Hafa wasn't quite sure how to react, so he chose to stare stonily in Sa'akah's direction until the other man broke into a chuckle. "You're not the only one who isn't meant to be here. My body might belong to me, but that doesn't mean my soul should be in it. Since I don't intend to ask Rim to sacrifice himself, I figured I could at least take his place."

"What about Rim? And Aini and Ghazi? You'll leave them so soon after reuniting with them?"

"I explained it to you before, didn't I? None of that matters. If we do nothing, reality collapses. Everyone dies. If we act, there's a large chance the same thing happens. My back is against the wall and this is the only solution I've come up with. There's no time for more research or theories."

Another awkward silence fell. Hafa turned away. His irritation with Sa'akah conflicted with a strange camaraderie that he hadn't been expecting, and he was having a difficult time stomaching it. He hated how uncertain everything was, he hated the idea of dying for no reason. In the same breath, he couldn't live with the thought of not trying to set things right. He supposed Sa'akah had felt the same.

"It's been so long since I've been surrounded by so many people…" Sa'akah said distantly. "I almost needed to go outside to relax in the middle of dinner. So many voices…" He chuckled. "It must have been similar for you when you first arrived here."

Hafa looked down. "It was suffocating at first. It still is sometimes, but…" Something painful caught in his throat. "...I don't hate it."

Sa'akah nodded, saying nothing. A long moment passed in silence before Sa'akah spoke again.

"I expect we have the better part of a week to act. There's a bit of a ritual that goes along with this, so let me know when you're ready. We can leave a message for the others to let them know what we've done, if you wish. If we try and tell any of them beforehand, a lot of time will be wasted." He paused. "Let's try and enjoy the next couple of days, at the very least."

The door behind them opened, the noise from within less rowdy than before. As if they'd been doing something they weren't supposed to, both Hafa and Sa'akah turned reflexively toward the door. Rim grinned at them from the doorway.

"You two done eating? Everyone inside is done, we're getting ready to clean up." he said. Sa'akah stood up, brushing off his robe.

"Let me help. I just needed a quiet moment."

Rim stepped outside, stretching his arms over his head. "Reem and Najiya want us to stay with them while we're here, and while I'm trying to figure out my next move. That okay with you?" Rim tilted his head at Sa'akah's contemplative silence. "You aren't leaving, are you?"

"I'll stay if you want me to." Sa'akah said with a smile. Rim smiled back and punched Sa'akah in the shoulder.

"You can't leave _now_ , stupid. We all just found each other again."

"Right, right." Sa'akah laughed, shoving past Rim to enter the house. "I'm not going anywhere."

Rim shot an inquisitive look to Hafa. "You coming, Hafa?"

Hafa nodded, bile stinging his throat.

.

.

.

Two days passed with relative ease.

The Sultan Akram and his entourage left early in the morning of the second day, the day after Maha unsuccessfully attempted to infiltrate their campsite.

" _Runes_! There were runes drawn all over the ground, I couldn't get close!" Maha exclaimed, shivering. "It felt horrible being anywhere _near_ them!"

"Runes?" Reem asked, rubbing his chin in thought. "What in the world would they need protection from djinn for? What are they afraid of, exactly?"

Regardless of the suspicion this raised, it was quickly and halfheartedly alleviated when the party from Sama Al-Kah left. Reem still intended to keep watch until he was convinced they'd seen the last of the Sultan and his men.

There was also the issue of yet another jewel showing up, just as Miss Maha had previously guessed. Maha felt it on Sa'akah the moment they were near enough to each other, and promptly reported it to Reem and Najiya. Unsure of what to make of such a coincidence and in light of everyone's relatively good mood since Rim had been found, neither Reem nor Najiya saw fit to alert anyone when there didn't seem to be anything wrong.

Mumyi hadn't returned. It was hard not to be worried, considering he'd told no one where he was going or made any indication that he wouldn't be coming back. Even if they hadn't known him long, he was the brother of Siraj al Din, and they all shared a joint desire to find him. Still, there was nothing to be done except hope he was safe and wait for a possible reappearance.

Since the conversation he'd had with Sa'akah the night Rim returned to the city, Hafa hadn't been able to talk to Makarim or anyone else. It was no longer out of cowardice, but out of necessity. Sa'akah had made a good point; why trouble anyone with the inevitable? Over the last two days, the hiccups in time had become more apparent. It wasn't just an early sunset or a late sunrise anymore; entire hours were missing, slipping away so quickly and silently that no one even noticed they were gone. He wasn't sure if Sa'akah's words to him the other night had put him at ease or if the reality of the situation was just finally sinking in, but he had lost the will to fight. The body he lived inside was not his own. Something horrible was happening, and surrendering his body might help put things right. It was a small chance, but it was the best they could do. Why had it seemed so complicated before? There was only one choice from the beginning.

Leaving Makarim was the only thing that bothered him. The one thing Sa'akah seemed sure of was his connection to Makarim - the thread that supposedly bound them between lives - was severed, and there didn't seem to be any way of fixing that. This was the only detail that left him feeling hopeless. If he had some guarantee that he could be with Makarim in some form beyond this life, he wouldn't feel so sour.

"Haru? Can you grab that blanket over there?" Makarim asked, pulling Hafa from his consuming thoughts. Hafa nearly forgot what a blanket was before coming back to his senses and securing the aforementioned item. Dragging the blanket to the bed, Hafa dropped it on the pillows and cast Makarim a side-long glance.

"You aren't feeling sick, are you?" he asked. For the last couple of days, Makarim had woken with a mild fever that seemed to go away just as quickly as it came.

Makarim plopped onto the bed and sighed hugely, stretching out on the bed like a cat. "I'm feeling fine. I think maybe it was just getting too hot up here with the twins sleeping in bed with us like they were... They've taken such a shining to Rim, though, they're finally sleeping in their own beds tonight, so I should wake up feeling fine." He smiled drowsily at Hafa. "I'm glad we finally have a night to ourselves." He immediately yawned, covering his mouth guiltily. "Too bad I seem to be too tired to really enjoy it…"

Hafa sat on the bed, flopping next to Makarim and pushing his head into the crook of Makarim's shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to his neck. "Being alone with you is enough for me."

Makarim laughed tiredly, pulling Hafa close. "Same here. Besides, we have plenty of time. Rim is home! We have the rest of our lives together."

Hafa stuffed his face into Makarim's shoulder. He took a deep breath through his nose. Makarim smelled like sun and clay; he had grown to love this smell.

"...You would be okay without me, wouldn't you?" he murmured softly into Makarim's shoulder. Makarim's head moved; his nose brushed the top of Hafa's head.

"Haru? What was that?"

Hafa shook his head, settling more closely to Makarim and draping an arm over his chest. "Nothing. Let's go to sleep. It's been a long day."

.

.

.

Aini was somewhere cold. Somewhere dark.

Stone walls surrounded him on all sides. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see a wide staircase form in front of him that ascended so high that the rest of them dissolved into inky darkness. Cool air was blowing from the top of the stairs, compelling Aini to climb them. Hesitantly, he did.

He was worried about how dark it was. Very quickly it became too dark to see, and Aini hugged his arms to guard against the cold. Just as he thought he might not be able to continue for the imposing darkness all around him, small, white orbs blossomed along the walls of the staircase to illuminate his way. They looked exactly like the orbs Sa'akah could create with a tap of his staff; Aini looked around, expecting Sa'akah to be somewhere nearby.

"Keep walking. The answer you seek is at the top."

Although Aini couldn't see him anywhere, Sa'akah's voice came clearly from every direction. Aini continued to turn, his eyes darting around wildly.

"Where am I? What am I looking for?" he asked.

When no immediate answer came, Aini continued to climb. Sa'akah's voice floated to him from somewhere far away.

"I told you, didn't I?" Sa'akah asked coldly. "I explained to you what's going to happen to us all. The end of everything. The collapse of our worlds."

Aini hugged his shoulders more tightly. "I know… I've kept quiet about it, like you asked. That doesn't explain why I'm here."

"Pay attention to what you see. The answer you seek is at the top."

"What does that mean?" Aini asked, frustrated. There was no reply. He was alone in this place. He had been from the start. In fact, this was the most empty place he had ever encountered; it felt unnaturally devoid of life. Aini could feel neither djinn nor human anywhere; he'd lived his whole life acutely aware of how many djinn lived unseen among mortals, so it was especially strange for such an ancient, dark place to be devoid of djinn.

By this point, Aini knew he was dreaming. Most of his dreams tended to be lucid, but generally he could control the direction of the dream to some extent. This felt different. He'd never felt so _herded_ before. There was only one way he could go and it was up these stairs, surrounded by floating orbs of light to guide his path. Still, he pushed on. _The answer you seek is at the top_. Was there some way of stopping the catastrophe Sa'akah had described to him that night in the palace? He'd been sick over it ever since he'd been told. He hadn't even realized how discorded the air had become, too wrapped up in finding and being reunited with Rim and Sa'akah to give it any mind. It was natural to dream about something so severe that was preying on his mind. As to why it felt so different… As Aini climbed the stairs, he hoped his answer would be clear.

The higher he climbed, the colder it became. How many stairs could there possibly be? Just as Aini was considering turning back, a bright light overwhelmed his senses and the stairs faded away.

When he opened his eyes, he was somewhere new. Alarmed, Aini turned around, nearly tripping over his own feet; the staircase was completely gone. Instead, it looked as though he had emerged from an archway and entered a huge, tall chamber. Stone pillars lined the walls, the rest of the room littered with pedestals, benches and torches. In the center of the room - the obvious object of attention- was a giant statue of a man. Aini craned his neck to look at it, his mouth open in awe. The first thing he noticed was the staff the man was holding; it was Sa'akah's staff, there was no doubt about it. This man must be King Solomon. Even without having recognized the staff, the ring on the statue's finger was clearly the Seal of Solomon, complete with all four jewels.

Aini tentatively stepped into the room, taking in his surroundings. The place felt old but it looked so _new_ ; even the candles on the pedestals looked as though they had just been lit for some sort of evening service. As Aini continued to explore, he couldn't help but wonder why his dream had guided him here. He knew the statue of Solomon was relevant, but how? What was he supposed to learn here? He'd climbed to the top just like Sa'akah said, now what?

When he looked back at the statue, he had to stifle a gasp. There was a figure standing at the base of the statue - a figure resembling the statue he stood under from what Aini could tell - facing away from him and seemingly unaware of the surprised onlooker. The figure was dressed in heavy robes and held Sa'akah's staff in one hand, his other hand outstretched to touch the base of the statue. As Aini watched, a large stone panel at the base of the statue painstakingly slid down and away, revealing a passageway. In a blink, the figure was gone.

Cautiously, Aini approached the statue, peering down into the passageway. It was so dark he couldn't see a thing; the little light orbs Sa'akah could create would be extremely helpful.

His chest felt tight. As he began his careful descent, Aini distinctly felt as though he was doing something wrong, going somewhere he wasn't allowed. The air was thick and stagnant, making it difficult to breathe. Should he continue? Surely there was something important here, but it was getting difficult to move his limbs. There was a voice from somewhere far away, pulling him back, and no matter how hard he tried to resist, he could feel the dream slipping away from him.

.

.

.

"Aini! Wake _up_!"

Aini's eyes flew open and he inhaled a massive breath. Rim was in his field of vision, eyes wide in concern, his hands gripping Aini's shoulders firmly. Aini felt like his heart was beating out of his chest and his body was cold with sweat; he grabbed Rim's arms in an attempt to ground himself, taking steady breaths.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Rim asked worriedly. "You started shaking… You started breathing really hard, you scared the hell out of me…"

Aini shook his head, letting out a cleansing sigh. "It was just a dream," Aini reassured, covering his eyes with his hand. "A really weird dream…"

"You sure?" Rim asked, releasing Aini and sitting back on the bedding with a sigh of relief. "Was it a nightmare?"

Aini was still for a moment, considering. "I don't think so. I think it was important." He shook his head again. "I'm not sure." Moving his hand to peek at Rim, Aini quirked a brow. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Nah. I can't sleep. I feel restless."

Sitting up and running a hand through his silver, sweaty hair, Aini frowned at Rim in concern. "Are _you_ feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I can't really place it. I feel like something's wrong, but I can't put my finger on why." He laughed through his nose. "Stupid, right? Everything's going well, so there's really no reason to feel that way."

Aini chewed on his bottom lip, considering his possible responses. When was Sa'akah planning to talk to Rim about everything? Rim still didn't know about the Unholy Events or even about their village; most importantly, he didn't know about himself. Was Sa'akah _really_ planning on telling him everything? Was it okay for them all to enjoy themselves and live their lives as normal while the world crashes down around their ankles? And that dream… Should he tell Sa'akah about it?

"Where is Sa'akah?" Aini asked curiously. Sa'akah's bedding was unused and he was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't terribly unusual; while staying with Reem and Najiya, the three men slept in the loft while Ghazi stayed with Ru'a, and Sa'akah didn't seem to spend much time in the loft at all.

"Outside, most likely. I went looking for him when I couldn't sleep, but I couldn't find him. I wonder if that guy sleeps at all." Rim said, scratching his head.

"Rim," Aini moved the blankets aside and climbed in Rim's lap, sliding his arms over Rim's shoulders, "Have you had a chance to talk to Sa'akah yet? Like… alone?"

Rim reflexively rested his hands on Aini's hips. "Not really. There hasn't been a lot of time for it."

Aini hummed, still absently biting on his bottom lip. "Maybe tomorrow you should talk to him. After all, you two haven't gotten any time to really catch up, right?"

Rim grinned. "Why so worried? You haven't had any time to talk to him, either."

The hesitancy in Aini's expression must have been enough to prove otherwise. Rim raised his brows. "Or have you?"

"Ahh," Aini cleared his throat. "I couldn't sleep that night at the palace. I took a walk, and ran into Sa'akah. We were able to talk for a little while."

"Oh, yeah?" Rim's smile became deviously playful. " _Just_ talking? Or did something else happen?"

" _Wh_ \- Rim!" Aini whispered, his face on fire. "Why would you even ask something like that!"

"What?" Rim countered, laughing. "How could he even resist, if he got you all alone?" He tilted his head at Aini curiously. "Don't tell me you didn't know…? When we were kids, he was really smitten with you. It was obvious."

Aini tried to speak but it came out as a sputter. "I- how- w- how would you even _know_ something like that?" He shoved Rim in the shoulder. "And why do you sound so _delighted_ about it?"

Rim snickered and held Aini's hips flush with his lap, leaning forward to put his teeth teasingly against the nape of Aini's neck. Aini let out a shivery whimper that he immediately stifled.

"Whenever I teased you back then, he always got into it with me. He pampered you, you know."

Aini grabbed Rim's shoulders and exposed his neck to him, his breathing hitching in his throat when Rim gently licked at this pale skin, pressing the sharp points of his teeth along his collarbone. "Rim…"

"It gets me kind of hot thinking about it," Rim rumbled against the boy's neck, "how damn _desireable_ you are."

Letting out a soft breath, Aini let his eyes flutter closed. "Sa'akah… he liked you too, Rim…" he breathed, letting loose a whimper as Rim's mouth traveled up the side of Aini's neck and kissed along his jawline.

"That so?" Rim growled, nuzzling Aini's neck. "Well, if he decides to come back to bed tonight, he might get a show."

" _Rim_...! We _can't_ … what if we wake someone up..?" Aini groaned, needily bucking his hips against Rim's groin despite his protests.

"Be quiet, then," Rim whispered, seizing Aini's mouth in a hot kiss. Aini grabbed handfuls of Rim's nightshirt, kissing him urgently as Rim shifted under him, laying Aini gently down on the bedding while working impatiently to get him out of his clothes. Aini's trembling hands flew to Rim's shirt, sliding under the cloth to feel his skin.

The only indication that anything had gone wrong were Rim's hands halting in their endeavour as if he'd been frozen, and their frenzy of kissing ended prematurely when Rim's head snapped up, stone-still as though he were listening intently to something. For a moment, Aini thought Rim heard someone awake in the house; trying to get his breathing under control, he touched the side of Rim's face.

"R-rim? What's wrong?" he whispered. Even in the darkness, Rim's face looked pale.

"Do you hear that?" Rim asked. His voice was hushed but shrill. Aini listened, but he couldn't hear anything unusual. Now that the fear had been put into him and his arousal was rapidly fading away, he could certainly feel a foreign tension in the air that hadn't been there before.

"I don't hear anything," Aini said, sitting up and adjusting his disheveled clothes. "What do you hear?"

Rim raised a hand to his head, sitting back. "I… fuck. I don't know. Talking. Whispering. This voice… This _fucking_ voice…"

"Rim?" Aini put a hand on Rim's shoulder in concern. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Something's wrong. Something…" Rim looked up and met Aini's troubled gaze, his eyes wide in realization. "We have to go. Now."

.

.

.

There was a sharp pain in his neck. He couldn't breathe. At first Hafa assumed he was dreaming, but it had been a long time since he'd had one of those. Hafa tried to open his mouth and take a breath but only a choke emerged. All at once he realized he was being strangled.

Hafa's eyes popped open and he awoke to the suffocating feeling of hands firmly circled around his throat, pressing hard on his airway. In a panic Hafa grabbed at his attackers hands, trying to pry them free; they wouldn't budge, and Hafa's thrashing didn't seem to do a thing. He felt added weight on his pelvis; his attacker was straddling him, pinning him down. Where was Makarim? Was he safe? Had the attacker gotten to him first?

As Hafa's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was able to see the figure hovering over him. Wide green irises stared down at him, catching the moonlight. Hafa went limp in confusion, a choke leaving him.

"Ma... _urk_... ka….ri….m...?"

Makarim's hands found more leverage around his throat, sending shooting pains through Hafa's neck. Hafa could barely breathe, vainly trying to pull Makarim's hands off of him. This couldn't be real. It didn't feel real. This had to be some kind of demented dream. A giddy chuckle tumbled from Makarim's lips.

"You awake now, Hafa?" he hissed. "You were sleeping for _so long_ , and I haven't gotten any sleep at all. You're being _rude_ , Hafa."

Hafa managed to curl his fingertips just under Makarim's palms, but it mattered little. Makarim's thumbs pressed harder against Hafa's throat, drawing forth a gasp and a whimper. As his eyesight faded in and out of focus, Hafa tried to focus on Makarim's eyes. This was not Makarim. Even though it spoke with Makarim's voice, he knew only one being who said his name with such disdain.

"Sh...ar….?"

Hafa was immediately silenced as Makarim increased his hold. He was going to die. He was going to die without telling Makarim the truth about anything, or being able to help him at all. Hafa's hands dropped to his sides. His vision blackened. He thought he'd been ready for death, he thought it didn't matter how he died because the result would be the same. He was wrong. This was the worst way to die he could imagine.

" _HAFA_!"

His senses were suddenly and violently brought back to him when Hafa heard Rim's voice and felt Makarim's hands leave his neck. Finally free, Hafa rolled onto his side and coughed, weakly inhaling breath as someone grabbed his shoulders from behind and another hand began rubbing his back.

"Haru! Are you okay?! Stay with us!" came Najiya's voice very near his ear.

As Hafa focused on breathing, sounds of struggling filled his ears, coupled with Makarim's angry yells and Rim and Reem's panicked voices as they worked to secure him.

"Reem, watch out, his arm-"

"I've got him, I've got him… _Ahh_ , Makarim, stop fighting us! What's _wrong_ with you?"

Sa'akah's voice suddenly cut through the noise.

"Hold him down tight. Here, use this. Tie him up. Arms behind the back."

Makarim's furious shouts dissolved into manic laughter, ringing unsettlingly through the loft and chilling Hafa's blood. Still sputtering, Hafa turned toward the scene, his hand circled gingerly around his own sore throat.

"Hafa, don't try and move!" Ghazi said in concern, her hands still braced on his shoulders. "You might be really hurt…!"

Rim, Reem and Sa'akah were tying Makarim's arms and hands behind his back as he laughed, his ankles already bound tightly by Aini, who was sitting on his legs, head down, terribly out of breath.

"Maka-" Hafa tried to speak but it came out as a squeak and he resumed coughing. Najiya rubbed his back comfortingly.

"Don't try and speak, Haru!" Najiya warned.

Rim stood up, brushing hair out of his eyes. He rubbed his chin, which looked as if it had been hit during the struggle. "It isn't Makarim, Hafa. It's Sharik. I don't know how or why, but somehow that bastard took Makarim's body."

Hafa couldn't respond, he could only breathe. How could something like that be possible…? He'd been present when Makarim had banished Sharik between worlds. He'd heard the words spoken, and he'd seen Sharik vanish from existence. An icy realization shot through Hafa like the steel of a blade. _Between worlds_. With the two worlds colliding on one another, was it possible Sharik was able to find a way through? Hafa glanced at Sa'akah with wide, inquiring eyes. Sa'akah met his gaze and gave him a firm nod in reply. It appeared Sa'akah had the same thought.

"Hafa, are you okay?" Rim asked, pulling his fingers through his tousled hair. "Don't answer, just nod."

Hafa nodded, lowering his head to cough again. Najiya stood up, heading to the ladder. "I'll get some water for Haru, okay?" he said, hurrying down the stairs.

Makarim's laughter had become a throaty chuckle, as if he were enjoying a funny joke. Rim cast an acid look at him. "Shut the fuck up, you asshole. How are you even _here_? How the _fuck_ did you take Makarim?"

"Rim, how did you even know he _was_ here?" Ghazi asked curiously, speaking over Makarim's continued laughter. "If we'd been just a second later…"

Rim shook his head. "I can't explain it. I just felt him suddenly, like he was looming over me again. I felt him around me for so many years… it's not a feeling you forget easily." He turned his attention back to Makarim. "Well? Are you going to answer, or are you just going to sit there and laugh?"

"I don't believe your friend is entirely possessed, Rim," Sa'akah said, placing a hand on Rim's shoulder. "The one called Sharik was destroyed by the Seal. What's happened to Makarim is more like a sickness. Sharik somehow managed to infect him with just enough of his consciousness to slowly poison him over time. His idea of revenge, maybe."

"That explains the fevers and attacks he's been having!" Najiya said, having returned with a glass of cool water and a moist rag which he offered to Hafa for his throat. Hafa gratefully took it and pressed it gently to his neck.

"How… do we…. help him…?" Hafa huffed, his voice hoarse. Sa'akah stared hard at Makarim, who in turn was watching him with a penetrating, even gaze, his laughter all but gone.

"It shouldn't be hard. Even if he were properly possessed, we have the Seal of Solomon. Exorcisms are rather simple. I don't think it should come to that, though. Solomon's staff should be more than enough to ward off whatever pieces of Sharik are afflicting him."

"I broke him," Makarim said suddenly, demanding an uneasy silence from the entire room. "It wasn't hard. He already thought he was useless, after all. It was just a bit of pushing. A bit of pushing." Makarim's head rolled to the side to stare at Rim, who stepped back reflexively. "Little humans are so easy to break. So many itty-bitty insecurities. Isn't that so, Rim?"

"You… you _son_ of a-"

"And _you_ ," Makarim said, directing his attention back to Sa'akah, "I remember you, boy. Look how you've grown! Last I saw you, you were crying your eyes out in a sea of fire. I'm shocked to see you're still alive. Well… _Mostly_ alive, anyway. How is _soullessness_ treating you?"

Sa'akah's jaw clenched. Aini stood up, grabbing the hem of Sa'akah's robes and giving it an urgent tug. "Sa'akah… Ahh, maybe we should-"

"You know," Sharik continued through Makarim's mouth, "I never even realized you and Rim knew each other until that day you came to the palace. As soon as I saw that guilt on your face, I just _knew_. You did it all for him, and it all went wrong. So very, _very_ wrong."

"Shut up," Sa'akah hissed, a fist clenched at his side.

"What's this about?" Rim asked, looking from Makarim to Sa'akah in growing interest. "What's he talking about?"

"Anything he says is bound to be a lie, isn't it?" Reem asked uneasily. "If that's truly Sharik speaking, he'll say anything to distract us."

Sharik buckled over in laughter. The sight of Makarim acting in such a way made Hafa's chest tighten painfully.

"You _really_ haven't told him, have you?" Sharik asked Sa'akah incredulously. "You haven't told him who was really responsible for the destruction of your village?"

Rim went rigid. Sa'akah strode forward with a pulled fist, but Reem grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Get a grip! That's still Makarim's body!" Reem reminded, though he had gone rather pale himself.

"A little boy with a book of incantations and good intentions… I can remember it well, even though my form is gone. You were my last master, even though you barely qualified. Why keep it to yourself? How could Rim be upset when you tried so _hard_ to help him?"

"Sa'akah, what the _hell_ is he talking about?" Rim demanded hotly. "Why is he saying this shit?"

"Rim… I was going to tell you-"

"Why pick on _him_?" Sharik asked with a sharp laugh. "He isn't the only one keeping secrets. Hafa, have you figured out where you got your body yet?"

All eyes swept to Hafa, who avoided Makarim's gaze. Even though Sharik was in control, he still couldn't find it in him to stare into Makarim's eyes while he was exposed.

Ghazi stood up. "Stop this!" she exclaimed furiously. "We won't let you say whatever you want! Sa'akah, do what you need to do to help Makarim. Get Sharik out of him, please."

Sharik chuckled. "Humans have always disliked hearing the truth, haven't they?"

"I don't care if you're speaking the truth or not!" Ghazi argued shrilly. "It isn't your truth to tell! _Sa'akah_ -"

"No, I want to know," Rim growled, taking a step closer to Sa'akah. "Tell me he's full of shit. I just need to hear you say that this is all bullshit, that you had nothing to do with the fire back then." He grabbed the front of Sa'akah's robe tightly in his fist. " _Tell me_!"

Aini rushed to the men's side, placing a hand calmingly on Rim's arm. "Rim, let's talk about this later, okay?"

Rim flashed a fierce look at Aini, and the boy flinched from the intensity alone. "Aini, do you _know_ something about all this? You knew and you didn't _tell me_?"

"No, it isn't… Rim, it…"

Looking from Aini to Sa'akah with a look of utter betrayal, Rim released Sa'akah's robes and turned away from them, making for the ladder. Ghazi tried to go to him, but he brushed her off and climbed down to the main floor without a word. After a contemplative moment, Ghazi followed after him.

The loft was silent aside from Makarim's soft tittering. No one quite knew what to say. All of it was overwhelming in the most terrible way. After some time, Reem broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Lets… just do what we can for Makarim. It can't be good for him to have Sharik in his head for any length of time, correct?"

Najiya helped Hafa to stand as Sa'akah stepped forward, staff in hand, stopping just in front of Makarim. For a sick moment Hafa thought Sa'akah was going to strike him, but Sa'akah merely waved his right hand over the curved top of his staff, the blue orb once again blooming just under the wooden arch. Lifting the staff, he tapped the curved top gently to the crown of Makarim's head. As soon as the wood surface touched Makarim's hair, the man slumped forward as if he'd fallen asleep; Hafa knelt next to Makarim with Najiya's help.

"Is… he….?"

"He's fine." Sa'akah said hollowly. "I was right. A generic ward was all it took. He'll sleep it off, and when he wakes, he'll be himself again."

"No more attacks, or fevers?" Najiya asked worriedly.

"Not because of Sharik, no." Sa'akah answered. "Whatever was left of that djinn is gone. This time, for good." He turned his hardened gaze to Hafa. "You should rest, drink some water. There could be damage to your throat that might cause some trouble later."

Hafa nodded, observing Makarim's sleeping face. His breathing was slow and calm, as though he had just dropped off for a nap.

"Let's untie him," Aini suggested, kneeling down to untie Makarim's ankles. Despite his own discomfort, Hafa began to loosen the binds around Makarim's shoulders as Najiya worked on his wrists. Once they had freed him, Reem and Najiya carefully moved him back to his bed. Seeing Makarim lie in bed with such a peaceful expression on his face made it difficult to believe he'd housed a dead djinn just moments before.

Unusual sounds coming from outside the shop suddenly reached everyone's ears. It sounded like several sets of hooves against stone and distant screaming and shouting; for a moment no one moved, too confused to act. Ghazi's voice rang from downstairs urgently.

"Everybody come here! _Quick_!" the girl yelled. Without question, the men rushed to the ladder and descended. Hafa brought up the rear, still weak from the attack. When they reached the kitchen, they found Rim and Ghazi staring out the window in shock.

Hafa approached the window and immediately froze. The street was on fire. Entire families were vacating their homes in a panic as horses galloped through the streets, their riders holding blazing torches and glinting swords.

Hanging from each of their saddles, the crest of Sama Al-Kah fluttered ominously on crimson cloth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Aini must have the worst case of blue balls the world has ever seen amirite? I swear I'm not doing this to him on purpose T_T
> 
> Does anything ever go right for these guys? Geez.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sultan has demands to make, Rim takes one for the team, and Reem loses the thing that matters most to him.

The city smelled of flint and smoke. Most of the fires were localized to haystacks, tents and the colorful canopies that littered the residential districts, the stone houses and buildings defending their inhabitants from the worst of the soldier's attacks. Hafa saw a horse ride by as its rider kicked out a window across the street, tossing a torch inside the home. Scattered screams and galloping filled the streets. Everything had changed so suddenly it was surreal.

"They're _herding_ people." Rim said, returning to the back alley after getting a quick glimpse at the chaos. Hafa, Rim, Sa'akah and Reem were grouped together in the twisting alleys of the city, trying to get a better look at the situation. Shortly after discovering the ambush, Miss Maha had appeared with the twins, anxious to know what was happening. Rim had opted to go out into the city to investigate, leaving Aini, Ghazi and Maha to protect Rani and Ru'a and the unconscious Makarim. It was risky, but Najiya was confident they could evade detection by navigating the back streets.

"Herding people?" Reem frowned, rubbing his chin with his knuckle. He suddenly paled. "Don't tell me… Are they going to group everyone together for some sort of _execution_?"

"That wouldn't benefit Same Al-Kah." Sa'akah reasoned, leaning against the wall. "I expect the Sultan will have demands of some kind. A city without a ruler will do anything to be spared."

" _Reem_!" Najiya's voice chimed from above them; he was carefully climbing down the side of the nearest shop. Reem helped him down the last several feet. Najiya hopped to the ground, taking a deep gulp of air. "Ah… The air is so thick up there, everything's burning…"

"What did you see?" Hafa asked softly, his voice beginning to return to him.

"Things are calming down, but it's all moving to the heart of the city. The soldiers are blocking the East and West exits. They're pulling people out of their homes, people who are resisting are getting hurt… It's horrible!" He rubbed his arm nervously. "Do you think everyone else is going to be okay at Makarim's shop…?"

"Miss Maha is with them. I'm sure they'll be fine," Hafa said. "The better question is what _we_ should do. Trying to fight would be suicide."

"I agree. I recommend keeping the Seal close-by." Sa'akah said, glancing at the silver band that Hafa still wore on his finger. Hafa clenched his fist, running the pad of his thumb over the cool metal. "All of this is rather strangely timed, don't you think?"

"How do you mean?" Najiya asked worriedly.

Sa'akah crossed his arms, shaking his head. "It isn't important."

Rim clicked his tongue. "Is there _more_ you're not telling us?" he asked in a low growl.

In an effort to avoid unnecessary quarrels, Hafa gently touched Rim's shoulder, a gesture that used to work no matter how upset he was; Rim brushed him off, looking away. " _Don't_. I'm fine. There's more important stuff to be worrying about, anyway."

A silence fell over the company as everyone pondered how to proceed. The sounds were farther off now, the citizens being successfully corralled to the heart of the city like cattle. It was dark in the back streets, though dim, orange light peeked over the tops of the buildings and houses, proof of the fires still raging.

Rim broke the silence by groaning in frustration and scratching a hand through his hair. "Fuck. Well, we don't have a choice, do we? We should join everyone else and see what the Sultan is planning. There's no use in waiting around for them to leave, is there?"

"Should we ask Miss Maha along? You know… Just in case?" Najiya asked nervously.

"We can't keep depending on Miss Maha for everything," Reem put in. "Besides, I think she'd be better off watching over Makarim and the twins for now."

"I wasn't thinking of that. You're right." Najiya replied. "There's just something about Sultan Akram that makes me nervous."

"If we're going, we had better go now," Sa'akah suggested, tapping his staff against the ground. "Whatever is happening, it's likely happening soon."

.

.

.

Following Najiya, the group weaved through the back streets and emerged just outside of the fabric shop. As both Rim and Najiya had predicted, nearly every person who lived in the city had been herded into a massive, terrified circle that was patrolled on all sides by Same Al-Kah soldiers, right where the courtyard of Rim's palace used to stand. Nervous whispers and hushed crying hung over the crowd, disturbing the otherwise tense silence. Everyone appeared to be waiting for something. As the five of them stealthily worked their way into the crowd, a small train of men on horseback brought up the head of the grim congregation. Sultan Akram Ibn-Zafir was in the center of the train, flanked on both sides by important looking soldiers brandishing golden swords. Reem and Najiya recognized one of them as Gohar, the general who had questioned them days ago.

A silence fell over the crowd. As the train fanned out, the Sultan remained at the center, slowing his horse to a halt. He observed the terrified masses with a placid smile that demanded attention; the sight of it made Hafa's blood run cold.

Bringing up the rear of the train, nearly unnoticed came a man without a steed, stopping just to the right of the Sultan. Hafa's blood went from freezing to boiling in less time than it took to take a breath. It was Khuzama. As he silently stood next to the Sultan viewing the citizens with strangely emotionless violet eyes, Hafa couldn't help but recall the prophecy Khuzama had given him three days ago… Had it been a warning, or a threat? It didn't matter either way. Khuzama was working with Sultan Akram, and so Hafa had no reason to think of him any further.

The Sultan cleared his throat and raised his hand, commanding the right to speak. All eyes moved to him, anxious about what he had to say.

"I am Sultan Akram Ibn-Zafir of the kingdom of Same Al-Kah. I apologize for the brash nature of our visit, but seeing as how you have no proper leader to speak with, it was a necessary evil."

Hushed murmuring erupted from the crowd. It was dispelled quickly as some of the soldiers drew their blades.

"I will not waste any more of your time than is needed. I am here for a particular object, and shall not leave until it is delivered to me. I know that it is here, and will wait patiently until it is mine." The Sultan's charming smile widened. "The legendary Seal of Solomon, King Solomon's magick ring."

A warmth spread from Hafa's middle finger to his chest, as though the ring knew it was being sought after. Rim flashed Hafa a knowing look, his jaw clenched tight.

"A descendant of Solomon resides in this city, and with him, the Seal. I ask that the son of Solomon bring me the Seal before the hour is done." Sultan Akram flourished his arm toward the crowd. "The rules are very simple..."

One of the Sultan's generals moved forward; a yelp broke the silence, followed by terrified sobbing. A young woman had been yanked from the crowd, hoisted onto the general's horse. The man held his sword to her throat, rendering her mute with fear. Several outraged yells and objections moved through the ranks, silenced again by the Sultan's hand.

"Every hour that I do not have the Seal of Solomon in my possession, I will have someone killed, starting with the women. The amount of people killed per hour will double every time. Anyone who resists will be killed. Anyone who tries to escape will be killed. If we all understand each other, then it must be clear to you all what needs to be done. I will wait here until the hour is done, and then the first of you will perish."

.

.

.

"He _what_?" Ghazi slammed her hands on the kitchen table, her face alight with fury. "He's going to _kill_ citizens if we don't give him the ring?!"

"He made his demands quite clear," Reem said crossly, pacing in front of the water basin. " _Dammit_. I _knew_ there was something off about that Sultan."

"This explains the runes guarding his camp," Miss Maha offered uneasily. "He knew someone in the city had the ring, so he was prepared for a possible djinn attack."

"And he just _let_ you all come back here?" Aini asked curiously.

Sa'akah crossed his arms, sighing deeply. "He let everyone go. There's no way out of the city, and he has a hostage. He wants the son of Solomon to retrieve the ring and return to him, I expect."

"What do we _do_?" Najiya asked, glancing worriedly out the window. "We can't _really_ give it to him, can we?"

Reem ceased pacing, popping his fist into his palm with a sudden 'aha!' of inspiration. "What if we present him with a fake ring! Najiya and I have more than a few impressive rings in our inventory-"

"If the Sultan knows the ring is here and has planned this ambush so meticulously, I doubt he'll be fooled by a false ring." Sa'akah reasoned. "Besides, it's not worth the risk."

"That presents another question, doesn't it?" Ghazi asked, putting a finger to her chin. "How could he possibly know where to find the ring? We're the only ones who know about it."

Hafa absently rolled the ring between his fingers, staring at it as if he could will it - and its legacy - away. He couldn't explain how he felt. He barely knew Khuzama and had no reason to trust him, but Khuzama had known Nanasuh. After all he'd learned about him he felt strangely bitter about the turn of events. He wished Makarim were awake. His earlier shame from Sharik outing him had all but faded away, leaving him simply wishing to hear Makarim's voice. It was strange how quickly a situation could change one's view on things that had once seemed so important.

"There was a man standing next to the Sultan, without a horse. Makarim and I met him a few days ago. His name is Khuzama." Hafa slipped the ring back onto his finger. "He claims to be a mystic. I bet he's the one that told the Sultan."

Rani silently entered the room, stopping next to Reem and clinging onto the sash around his waist. "Reem...? When is Makarim going to wake up?" he asked quietly as the others talked. Reem placed a hand gently on his head.

"Soon. It shouldn't be much longer now."

"Is that Sultan gone yet?" he continued worriedly. Reem smoothed his hand down the back of his head.

"Not yet. Don't worry, though, all of us are here to make sure nothing bad happens. Miss Maha, too."

Rani turned his gaze onto Hafa, his eyes wide with hope. "The Sultan won't hurt anyone, will he?"

The need to reassure the boy was a strong one, though Hafa wasn't sure they could guarantee anyone's safety at this point. The adults fell silent and regarded each other with solemn reluctance.

"We're going to try and make sure he doesn't," Hafa said to the boy. He nodded, biting his lip. "Go join your sister upstairs, keep watch over Makarim. Make sure to tell us when he wakes up, okay?"

With another stiff nod, the boy released Reem and returned to the ladder, gingerly climbing up.

Everyone collectively sighed. Aini sat down at the kitchen table and pressed his face into his hands. "This is all _really_ bad. Why did this have to happen at a time like _this_...?"

"'A time like this'?" Rim repeated, crossing his arms over his chest. "There _is_ something else you're not fucking telling us, isn't there?"

Hafa felt suddenly guilty just for knowing more than Rim did. "Rim, I don't know if right now is t-"

"Dammit, Hafa, not you too… !" Rim growled, advancing on him. "I _know_ this isn't the time for it! But shouldn't we at least _try_ to clear the air before all hell breaks loose?"

The room fell silent with neither objections nor agreement. Those who knew were stewing with guilt, and those who didn't were too curious to oppose. Sa'akah sighed shallowly. "I don't think this is the proper time. It's all rather complicated."

"Then _un_ complicate it. Give me the short version." Rim demanded in a low voice.

Both Hafa and Aini looked to Sa'akah, an omission of their shared knowledge. Sa'akah matched Rim's stare for some time, in hopes the man would back down; when it was apparent Rim had no intentions of doing so, Sa'akah relented with a grunt of displeasure.

"To sum it up, then, the world is ending." Sa'akah stated flattly. Reem, Najiya, Rim, Ghazi and Maha all stared at Sa'akah blankly as though they were waiting for a punchline; when none came, Najiya let out a cry of disbelief that Reem quickly covered with his hand.

Miss Maha floated forward, her face entirely pink. "What do you _mean_ , 'the world is ending?!' That sounds _plenty_ complicated!"

Sa'akah turned his cool gaze on the frazzled jann. "Have you heard of the Unholy Events?" he asked her. Maha's expression became subdued; floating over the kitchen table, she looked deep in thought.

"I suppose I've _heard_ of them…" she said. "Only in passing, really. I think some old magician popularized the idea, right?"

"Shaddad. Son of Ad, the original owner of the palace where we met. He theorized that time and reality could be broken by three events."

"What events?" Rim asked, his tone less biting than before.

"Oh, _gods_ ," Miss Maha suddenly murmured in dismay, covering her fair mouth with her fingers. "I never once… I didn't think…!"

Najiya stepped forward, clutching his hands at his chest. "Miss Maha? What's wrong?"

The jann turned to Najiya with a fearful expression. "The three events… I remember them. 'The two realms converge.' 'A djinn soul becomes mortal.' 'A mortal soul defies death.' When Sharik summoned all of those djinn with the Pentacle of Solomon, the two worlds converged on one another. That was the first. The second was Hafa becoming mortal, and the third…" she trailed off uncomfortably as all eyes swiveled to Rim.

"That's the idea." Sa'akah said softly, regretfully.

Everyone fell into an uneasy silence. Nothing seemed real. The city was being stormed and citizens were being held hostage, and _still_ this was not the greatest concern; it all seemed utterly ridiculous. Hafa felt overcome with hopelessness. What could any of them do against the Sultan, let alone the apocalypse?

"How much time do we have left?" Ghazi asked, barely above a whisper. Sa'akah did not look at her.

"A few days, at best. Maybe a week. That's my guess based on how things have been progressing."

"How do we fix it? How can we make things go back to normal?" Rim demanded. Sa'akah shook his head.

"I only have ideas. If there is a way to resolve everything, I don't know it."

" _Shit…_ " Rim hissed through gritted teeth.

Reem distractedly adjusted his eyeglasses. "Miss Maha, you don't happen to have any ideas…?"

Playing with a strand of her chestnut brown hair, Maha shook her head. "I haven't given it any thought for centuries. I never expected something like this could actually happen. Though… This does explain some things. The Other World falling to shambles, and..." Her eyes narrowed knowingly in Sa'akah's direction, "...the jewels suddenly appearing. I can sense all three missing jewels in the area. If the world is really at an end, then it would make sense for the jewels to come together to make the Seal complete."

"All three of them?" Reem asked in surprise. "You mean Mumyi is somewhere nearby?"

"Possibly," she said with a sigh. "Or someone else has picked up his pendant."

Rim brought a hand down on the kitchen table. Aini involuntarily jumped.

"Okay. The world is ending, and the jewels are all coming together. That's some kind of really strange coincidence, right?"

"Oh!" Najiya brightened up, his eyes sparkling in realization. "I bet the ring can do something to reverse what's happening!"

"That's what I'm thinking," Rim said seriously.

The hopelessness Hafa felt slowly consuming him ceased its progression. Could something like that be possible? There were still so many questions, but Rim was right. It had more than likely taken Sharik hundreds of years to find only one of the jewels, and suddenly all of them were in one place, brought together. It couldn't be merely chalked up to coincidence.

"One problem," Aini said uncomfortably. "We have to hand over the ring to Sultan Akram, or he'll start killing people."

Rim peeked out the window to view the street; Same Al-kah soldiers continued to patrol the streets on horseback, hassling nervous citizens. He pulled the shutter, crossing his arms.

"I'll take the ring."

Aini stood up. "Rim-"

"It's a no-brainer. I'm the only one here who can't die. I think we can all agree that the Sultan is planning on offing the 'son of Solomon' once he gets the ring. Even if Makarim _were_ awake, there's no way any of us would let him go to his death."

The ring felt hot and uncomfortable against Hafa's skin. Rim stepped toward Hafa and held out his hand.

"You know I'm right, Hafa. I'm the best - no, the _only_ choice."

"How will we get the ring back after you hand it over?" Hafa asked.

Sa'akah tapped the curved top of his staff against the wall as if for an answer. "I agree that this seems like the best plan of action. If we can make the Sultan think he's won, we can easily get the ring back later and avoid unnecessary deaths."

Hafa carefully slipped the ring off of his finger, placing it in Rim's palm. He watched Rim slide the ring over his own finger, remembering a different time when Rim wore the ring for very different reasons.

"I'm not gonna waste anymore time, then. I'm gonna go give that creepy tyrant what he wants." Rim glanced at Sa'akah, staring into his eyes with purpose. "When I come back, or… _wake up_ , we still need to talk, you know. You're gonna tell me _everything,_ got it _?_ "

Sa'akah matched his gaze, offering him a rueful smile. "I suppose that's only fair."

.

.

.

At great protest, Ghazi stayed behind with Miss Maha, Makarim and the twins as the remaining men made their way into the city, concealing whatever weapons Reem could scrounge up under their clothes.

They were almost immediately accosted by Same Al-Kah soldiers for grouping together; to appease their captors, they all decided to split up into unassuming pairs and rejoin at the city's heart.

Rim and Aini walked the streets in relative silence for some time before Rim spoke.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you before." he said, nearly causing Aini to trip over his own feet. "A lot of stuff is happening, and I just wanted you to know I was sorry for getting so angry."

"It's fine!" Aini answered, relieved. "I can understand completely… I'm sorry for keeping things from you. I should have just been honest with you-"

"I don't want to talk about it just yet. I just wanted to apologize. In case something goes wrong."

Aini grabbed Rim's arm. "Nothing is going to go wrong. I'll make sure you're safe!"

Rim laughed fondly. "That's not really what I meant," he answered. He grabbed Aini's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks, though. But I forbid you to do anything reckless. Pretend that I'm still a Prince for a minute and remember that."

.

.

.

A lovely tent had been set up for Akram's comfort, his generals and soldiers flanking every side. The chosen hostage sat stock-still at the Sultan's side, a soldier's sword resting threateningly on her shoulder, inches from her neck. As the group reconvened, decidedly steering clear of the appalling scene, Rim wasted no time in approaching the Sultan's tent, leaving his companions to watch on in nervous apprehension.

He didn't get far before being stopped by a footsoldier, a curved sword brandished in his direction. Irritably, he put his hands up.

"Halt!" the soldier ordered needlessly, attracting the attention of the nearby guards and the Sultan. Rim rolled his eyes.

"Relax, would you? The Sultan asked for the Seal of Solomon, and I'm here to deliver it." Rim peeked around the guard to eye the Sultan directly, flashing him an impish smile. "Unless the Sultan has changed his mind?"

Akram matched Rim's smile, beckoning him closer. The soldier lowered his blade to allow Rim to pass, though the soldiers on either side of the Sultan remained wary of the stranger's approach.

"You share Solomon's blood?" the Sultan asked Rim as he drew closer. From behind him, a blonde soldier with a cross-shaped scar on the side of his scalp grabbed Rim behind the neck and forced him roughly to his knees in front of the Sultan; Rim grunted in discomfort but did not resist. At his new and somewhat demeaning height, Rim could clearly see the chair the Sultan was seated in and felt a wave of discomfort overtake him.

"Wait… This chair…?"

The Sultan leaned forward to regard Rim with a condescending smile. "The abandoned throne, yes. Modest, don't you think? I understand it once belonged to King Solomon."

Rim was stunned. He'd never known his throne was Solomon's, but he knew it couldn't be a coincidence. Sharik and his inflated ego must have found the throne and brought it to the palace. It made an odd sort of sense.

"I was told by my mystic that wherever Solomon's throne was found, the ring would follow. I suppose now is the time to see if he is as good as he claims to be."

A horrified yelp came from the left; the hostage had been grabbed and pulled to her feet, the sword pressing against her throat.

"Hey, what the fuck?" Rim growled, the hand on the back of his neck squeezing him warningly. He ignored it. "Let her go, I brought you the damn ring!"

"You still haven't answered my question, and I still haven't confirmed that you have the Seal." the Sultan answered coolly.

" _Yes_ , I'm the descendant of Solomon. Why else would I have come up here?" Rim snarled. "As for the ring, just take it. See for yourself that it's the real deal, then pack up and get the hell out of our city."

As Rim spoke, the Sultan gestured for someone behind his entourage to come forward. A man wearing cream-colored clothes and tousled, peach hair appeared at the Sultan's side, bowing his head.

"Your highness."

"Khuzama," the Sultan flourished his hand in Rim's direction without looking at him, "confirm that he brings the Seal." He directed his next order at his general. "If he lies, kill him."

The man called Khuzama nodded and knelt next to Rim, offering him an oddly hollow smile. He extended a hand. "Please hand over the ring so that I may confirm it."

Rim frowned, pulling the ring off of his finger and dropping it in Khuzama's hand. The man stood up, closely inspecting the ring, his free hand tugging absently on one of his earrings. A flicker of something unidentifiable crossed Khuzama's face so briefly Rim doubted it was ever there; he smiled and turned to the Sultan, kneeling before him and extending the ring to him.

"The Seal of Solomon, your Highness. I can confirm that it is real, and that this man is indeed the kin of Solomon that I've seen in my visions."

Sultan's Akram's false smile slipped for the first time since Rim was brought before him. With a steady hand, he took the ring from Khuzama, marveling at it. "You spoke the truth?" he said softly, moving his gaze to Rim. "You really are a son of Solomon?"

Rim unfalteringly glared at the Sultan with disdain. "I said I was. I just found out myself not too long ago. Now you have what you came for, right? _Get out of our city_."

The Sultan smiled, slipping the ring onto his finger. "In time. First, let us round up the citizens again, shall we? I have an announcement to make."

.

.

.

"Why does he need everyone gathered together like this?" Aini asked uneasily, his shoulder pressed to Najiya's side. Within the hour, the square was once again filled with people, all of them packed uncomfortably together between the buildings and shops. Rim had not yet been released nor had the Sultan or his men showed any signs of letting him free; the hostage had been freed, however, which seemed like only a small victory when the entire city was rounded up before the Sultan like sheep to the slaughter.

"I'm not sure," Reem answered, trying to keep his voice low despite the hundreds of whispers and murmurs surrounding them. "A show of power, perhaps? He does have the ring now, after all."

"Does he even know how to use it?" Najiya wondered aloud.

Sa'akah lowered his head to address the regrettably shorter men. "What makes the Seal so terrible is its ability to transfer will into form. There's no knowledge necessary. If he wills it, he could summon djinn by just thinking about it."

"Isn't that really bad?" Najiya asked, alarmed.

"It could be." Sa'akah said. "I don't see any reason for him to go overboard, though. He wants to scare us into submission and dazzle us with his power, not destroy us."

Najiya sighed anxiously. "You're sure?"

"It seems obvious. Don't panic until there's a reason to," Sa'akah reminded.

Several minutes passed before the Sultan emerged from his tent, his men pulling Rim out with them. Rim's arms were bound behind him, but he looked otherwise unharmed. Aini tensed; Sa'akah placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.

A horn blew. The voices in the square shushed, the people fretful. Sultan Akram stepped up onto a small collection of crates that had been placed together to form a sort of stage, raising both hands in the air commandingly; Hafa's stomach twisted when he saw Makarim's ring gleaming on his finger.

"You're probably all wondering why this is happening, why you deserve such treatment when you've lived a relatively undisturbed life out here, so disconnected from the other Kingdoms. I'm here to shed some light on your collective naivety." As the citizens watched and listened, the Sultan began leisurely pacing on his makeshift stage, his hands folded at his stomach. "No city can survive without a leader. Even before the Empire was founded, clans chose leaders based on an individual's strength and wisdom, because they understood the need for guidance. Your society is no different. Therefore-"

"Bullshit!" a man from the crowd called out abrasively, causing a nervous stir in the people around him. "This is a show of tyranny, nothing more! You're not a leader, you're a coward!"

In almost less time than it took for the man to speak, four soldiers weaved through the masses and grabbed the offender by the shoulders, forcing him to the ground. As one soldier covered the man's mouth, another ran a sword through his gut. Several people screamed; the crowd parted, fanning away from the execution in terror. As the excitement grew, the soldiers surrounding the congregation drew their blades and readied their shields.

Sultan Akram shook his head. "Such a shame. Please, everyone remain calm, for your own safety." The Sultan nodded to his general, who pulled Rim roughly by the arm and kicked him down to his hands and knees in front of the Sultan. Rim tried to rise, but he was kicked again, this time in the stomach.

"Rim…!" Aini sprang forward, stopped by Sa'akah's hand. He grabbed Aini's arm tightly, wrenching him back.

"You'll get yourself killed," he hissed.

"He's hurting Rim!" Aini replied tearfully. "I can't just _watch_!"

"Rim knew what to expect," Sa'akah countered. He pulled Aini to him, gently pressing Aini's face into his chest. "If you can't stand it, don't look. I won't have you going off doing something stupid. Rim would never forgive himself."

Aini fought against Sa'akah for only a moment before relenting, grabbing up fistfuls of the man's robes and stifling a frustrated sob.

Every bone in Hafa's body was buzzing with fury. He hated to see Rim being treated like this, and he hated to see Makarim's ring on this tyrant's finger. He couldn't help but wonder if they'd made the right decision; it almost seemed as if the Sultan planned to terrorize them regardless of whether or not he procured the ring.

The Sultan grabbed Rim by the hair and pulled him up on his knees. "Thanks to the son of Solomon, this night became much shorter than I had expected. He has delivered the Seal into my hands without delay. As the new successor to King Solomon's legacy, I intend to rule this land unmatched, just as Jedidiah did several thousand years ago." He produced a dagger, pressing it to Rim's throat. Hafa tensed, sickness flooding his stomach. Rim merely glared at the Sultan fiercely, teeth clenched in anticipation, his chest swelling with deep breaths.

"Thank you for your cooperation, son of Solomon." Sultan Akram dragged the blade across Rim's tanned throat, blood spraying his robes and arms. Rim choked and gurgled, his eyes rolling up into his skull. Hafa looked away. Najiya grabbed Reem's arm and pressed his face into his bicep, trembling. Sa'akah increased his hold on Aini to prevent him from looking, though the boy could tell from the cries and gasps of the audience that Rim had fallen.

Angry shouts and panicked screams began emanating from the crowd, too many for the soldiers to pinpoint. Akram let Rim's body fall to his feet, the life gone from him. Standing behind the Sultan with the generals, Khuzama's head was bowed.

The Sultan raised his ring-adorned hand, ignoring the furious protests of the people. "It's time to see what this Seal is capable of. Djinn, come forth!"

In seconds, eight strange forms appeared, surrounding the stage. Most of them wore monstrous forms, just like the djinn Sharik had summoned in Rim's palace. Only one djinn wore a human guise - a pretty, fair-skinned female with shoulder-length chestnut hair. Her large brown eyes looked around in confusion at the shocked, frightened crowd.

"M-miss Maha!" Reem gasped. "There's no way….! How did he...?"

"He didn't specify what djinn to command, so any wandering djinn in the area must have been dragged in," Hafa speculated uneasily. All of the djinn looked as though they hadn't the slightest idea what was going on; regardless, their forms were terrifying and unexpected, sending the crowd into hysterics. The Sultan seemed to be reveling in their fear.

"My demons, I command you to follow me and do as I say. Your first order is to show these fine people your true power - _my_ power - so that they may know respect."

Compelled by the ring, the djinn immediately changed their forms into large, much more frightening creatures; giant lions, massive poisonous insects and fire-breathing lizards rose up, sending the citizens running and screaming in every direction. Maha became a large tawny wildcat, the same form she had donned when rescuing Makarim, Reem, Najiya and Rim from the dark room under the palace.

Reem grabbed Najiya and held him close as panicked people stampeded by. Sa'akah slung an arm around Aini and seized the back of Reem's vest, yanking both him and Najiya through the masses to the safety of a nearby alcove next to the community garden.

"Rim! We have to go get Rim!" Aini yelled, his voice almost lost amid the roars of the crowd and rampaging djinn.

"We'll pick him up later!" Sa'akah yelled back firmly. "He isn't going anywhere, alright?"

"Where's Haru?" Najiya yelled, looking around frantically. "We have to get Haru! Unlike Rim, he _can_ die!"

" _Shit_ ," Sa'akah spat, scanning the crowd. It was impossible to find any one person among the sea of faces. Hafa was completely lost in the chaos.

.

.

.

Just like that, he'd lost sight of them.

Hafa wasn't aware things could go wrong so quickly. He'd only barely turned around to see the djinn change form when he'd been separated from the others, finding himself alone. With no other goal in mind, Hafa tried to push his way through the frantic crowd to get to the relative safety of a back street, hoping he could get back to Makarim's shop. He'd only felt comfortable leaving Makarim, Rani, Ru'a and Ghazi alone because they'd have Maha to protect them; without her, they were more susceptible than ever.

Trying to move in any direction was like walking through thick sludge. The screams and roars surrounding him were deafening. As soon as he found his opportunity, he pushed himself out of the current, falling against someone's splintered front door. For several moments he stood flush against the door, waiting for the street to clear out enough to move mostly unmolested; once the screams and shouts became more scattered and widespread, Hafa attempted braving the street a second time, breaking into a run.

When finally Hafa returned to the shop, his worries were confirmed. The front door was open, hanging on by a single hinge. His heart stuck firmly in his throat, Hafa pulled a short sword from his clothes and ran inside, not giving a second thought to the danger.

The place looked ransacked. Hafa heard a shriek from the kitchen. Upon entering, Hafa saw a man struggling with Ghazi; Rani and Ru'a were nowhere to be seen.

Without thinking, Hafa flew forward and slammed his shoulder into the man's side, knocking him off of her. To his surprise, the man wasn't a soldier like Hafa had expected; he was a townsman, someone Hafa had seen trading goods in the market days previous. Was this known as 'looting'?

"Hafa!" Ghazi choked out, her eyes red. Hafa felt a fresh wave of fury as he saw her hastily adjust her jilbaab, which upon closer inspection looked as though it had been manhandled. Hafa turned his furious gaze on the looter, who was standing up and brandishing a dagger.

"He- he burst in a few minutes after Miss Maha left!" Ghazi explained tearfully. "He's looking for money, and- and he wouldn't leave…!"

"Don't you _get it_?!" the man shouted, his expression crazed. "This is the end! Djinn are loose, Solomon's blood has been spilled… we're all going to fucking die… we're going to _die…_ "

"Is everyone okay?" Hafa asked Ghazi worriedly as the man ranted. She nodded, wiping at her eyes.

"Get out of here _now_ ," Hafa commanded the man crisply.

"No. I'm taking whatever money you have and I'm getting the hell out of here!" the man rebutted, lunging at Hafa swinging his blade wildly. Though he lacked skill, his swipes were completely unpredictable and furious; Hafa knocked Ghazi out of the way and attempted a dodge, falling roughly on the kitchen floor. The man advanced on him, aiming for his face. Hafa rolled out of the way, the man's dagger grazing his side. Hafa struggled to stand just as the man lunged a third time, gaining confidence at the sight of blood.

From behind him, Ghazi struck the man over the head with an iron kettle, knocking him into the cabinets. Hafa sprang forward in an attempt to disarm the looter, but Ghazi's surprise attack hadn't been enough to stun him; the man reared back and punched Hafa in the face, attempting another swipe with his dagger. Holding his face and losing his balance, Hafa stumbled back, lowering his guard.

Ghazi attempted a second attack but the looter was wise to it now, grabbing the kettle from her and kicking her violently to the floor. Once he confirmed she was motionless, the man turned back to Hafa and raised his dagger.

A small form appeared in front of Hafa, blocking the man's blade with her own. Hafa blinked several times before he could believe what he was seeing.

"Ru'a? What are you…!"

Ru'a grunted under the man's strength, his arm bearing down on hers, blades struggling with one another in a rapidly losing battle. The man laughed sharply.

"A little _girl_? You think I care about killing a child when we're all faced with horrible deaths? Move aside, girl, or I'll end you where you stand!"

"I won't… let you… hurt… my family…" Ru'a squeaked, her arms trembling.

"Ru'a! _Don't-_ "

The looter easily countered the little girl's blade, flinging her to the side. Ru'a nearly stumbled but found her footing, lunging her sword toward the man's chest; it was so fast and unexpected, the man wasn't able to dodge her assault completely, her blade catching him in the side. Stunned, the man yelped and covered his side, raising a hand to his face to observe his own blood. Letting out a furious yell, the man reared back his arm to backhand the surprised girl. Hafa threw himself into the looter a second time, both of them tumbling to the floor.

Ru'a screamed; Hafa assumed she was upset about the struggle, but soon realized this was not the source of her fright. A huge, impossibly long snake had slithered into the kitchen, rearing up menacingly at the men on the floor. It's jaw fell open to expose massive fangs dripping with venom.

The looter scrambled to his feet, a panicked cry in his throat. The snake dove for him, snapping its terrifying jaws; the man stumbled and fell, picking himself up just as quickly and fleeing the house in an absolute panic.

The snake turned its unblinking eyes on Hafa, peering at him with an oddly penetrating gaze. It extended its body toward him, flicking its tongue over Hafa's neck, smelling him deeply.

"It _is_ you. You smell different somehow, much more... _mortal_ … But I can tell it's you, all the same. What happened to reclaiming your djinn soul?" the snake hissed.

Hafa found himself at a loss for words. The snake's voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't match it to a memory.

"Excuse me?" Hafa asked, his voice stuck in a hoarse whisper.

The snake drew itself up and changed form, growing backward, hooved legs, a furry humanoid body and curved horns atop its head. Hafa's eyes widened.

"I believe I wore this guise when first we met. I'm embarrassed that both times we've run into each other I was snared by Solomon's ring… I'm getting a little tired of this song and dance, to be honest with you."

Hafa carefully stood up, Ru'a peeking out from behind him in both awe and fear. "I remember you… When we were trying to stop Sharik, you gave us a head start even when your orders were to kill us."

"I'm old, I've done the master thing more times than I can count. I'm good at postponing orders. Finding loopholes, too. For example… 'Showing our power' is so vague, isn't it? I'm just running around spooking people. Some of the other djinn are taking out their frustrations on the denizens, though." The beast sighed deeply. "What happened to you, anyhow? You smell entirely mortal. I wouldn't have thought that to be possible."

Hafa looked away awkwardly. "It's a long story."

"Too bad, I don't have the time to spare for a long story. Tough break, though. Unless, you know, you're _fond_ of this whole mortal idea." The monster snorted. "Still, this 'Solomon's ring' thing is getting out of hand, isn't it? It faded into legend for thousands of years, and all of a sudden I've been called with it _twice_ in less than a mortal year. Seriously bad timing, too. I assume you've noticed there's a bigger problem going on."

"I've noticed, yes." Hafa answered uncomfortably.

"Do you have another risky, half-baked plan to get the ring back?" the creature asked hopefully.

Hafa scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not sure. I'm not even sure we'll survive the Sultan's ridiculous power display at this point." Ru'a clung to Hafa tightly, causing him to regret his choice of words.

"Well, you'd better come up with something. I'll help if I can, you know. I don't appreciate being enslaved at a time like this."

"Yeah. Thanks."

The djinn morphed back into the giant snake, flicking its tongue out. "No problem. The Sultan is calling us back, so hopefully that means he's moving on. If we meet again, be careful. No telling what he'll order me to do next." He paused, his eyes darting away in thought. "Word of advice, too, while I'm at it. The word's gotten around about this 'bigger problem' in the Other World. Rumor has it there's some way to move the pieces in _our_ favor, if you know what I mean. I can't say I'm against the idea, but, well… You're mortal now, so I expect you might want to side with humanity. Food for thought, you know." The djinn vanished between the blinking of Hafa's eyes, leaving the kitchen much emptier and quieter than before, save for the churning of Hafa's brain as he tried and failed to decipher the djinn's parting words.

Ru'a let out a small whimper; Hafa snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at her worriedly. "Ru'a? Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head, sniffling. She rushed forward and hugged Hafa tightly around his middle, sobbing into his stomach. Hafa held the girl gently, stroking her hair.

"Ru'a… I can't believe what you did… I appreciate you trying to help, but you could have been _killed-_ "

"I couldn't let you die!" the girl cried crossly. "Ghazi told us to hide in the basement when that man started breaking down the door… We listened to her, but when I heard her scream, I couldn't _stand_ just hiding and not doing anything! That's what happened when father…" She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I took Reem's sword and… and…"

"Everything's fine now, Ru'a, no one was seriously hurt. Thank you for coming to help. You saved me."

Ru'a looked up at Hafa with round, glossy eyes. "R-really?"

"Really," Hafa told her, smiling.

"H-hey… Are they all gone?" Rani's voice suddenly called from the doorway. He was holding a sword in his trembling hands. "I… came to help… I guess I came too late?"

Ru'a wiped her face on her arm, sniffling. "Rani, I told you to stay downstairs!"

"I know, but… You're my sister! If I didn't try and help…" Rani lowered his head, looking to be stubbornly fighting off tears. Ru'a went to her brother and hugged him. He dropped his sword and clung to her, his shoulders trembling. "Sorry I'm such a coward…"

"You're not a coward. I was so scared I could barely hold my sword! You're brave for coming after me. Thank you."

As the twins comforted each other, Hafa checked on Ghazi, who was beginning to gain her senses back. He helped her to sit up; she winced and held her stomach. "D-dammit… Is he gone? Are the twins okay?"

"Everyone's fine. We should get upstairs, though, until it calms down outside."

.

.

.

"Why the hell are they following us?!" Aini huffed, taking refuge behind a large wooden cart. Sa'akah stole a glance down the street as his companions regained their breath. Several soldiers on horseback were scouring the area behind them, seemingly ignoring all other panicked passersby.

"I'm not sure, but they are definitely hot on our trail. We need to be careful. Until we throw them off, I don't think heading back to Makarim's is a good idea."

"Agreed," Reem said, squeezing Najiya's shoulder. "Still, why are they bothering with us? Can they possibly know we conspired with Rim in some way?"

Sa'akah shook his head. "Not sure. Let's move now, though, while they're distracted looking for us."

"I have a bad feeling about all this," Najiya groaned.

They took to the back streets, hopeful that the visitors from Same Al-Kah would stick to the main thoroughfare of the city, where most of the people were still gathered. Their hopes were short-lived; the sound of hooves echoed off of the buildings behind them, followed by unintelligible shouting.

" _Shit_ , are you kidding me?" Sa'akah spat as they ran.

"This isn't working!" Reem growled, drawing his sword. "We're going to have to fight them. Najiya, Aini, get somewhere safe, we'll-"

"I'm not leaving you, Reem!" Najiya shouted adamantly.

"I'm not, either!" Aini added.

Sa'akah groaned. "I have an idea. Everyone get ready."

At his words, everyone stopped running and faced their pursuers, Sa'akah standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Reem. The soldiers slowed their steeds, forming an oppressive half-circle around the company, weapons drawn. Sa'akah pressed the palm of his hand against the slope of his staff.

"Why are you chasing us?" Reem demanded fiercely. "We've done nothing to wrong you, have we? Haven't you all caused enough chaos tonight?"

"We have no qualms with you, stranger." the lead soldier said coldly. His horse stomped the ground and snorted. "We've been ordered to pick up the blonde one. Move aside and no harm will come to any of you."

Reem's mouth fell open, his brain unable to form words. Behind him, Najiya froze, his complexion becoming ashen with fear.

"M- _me_?" Najiya exclaimed uneasily. "What do you want with _me_?"

" _Preposterous_!" Reem snarled furiously, asserting himself more prominently in front of Najiya. "You're insane! You think I'll let you lay a _finger_ on him?"

Najiya clutched Reem's vest, his hands trembling. "Reem…"

"None of us here are eager to let you take our friend," Sa'akah said calmly. "Go back to your Sultan and tell him you failed."

Four of the soldiers hopped off of their horses, approaching the group. "Last chance. Hand him over."

Sa'akah pulled his hand away from the top of his staff, the familiar blue orb of swirling energy blooming under the arch. He struck his staff against the ground sharply; countless orbs of light blinked into thin air, all of them floating toward the armed men in a tight line formation. The soldiers withdrew in caution and surprise, backing up to assess the new danger; all at once the orbs flew to the ground, striking the stone and exploding into thick, white mist that completely blocked the soldiers from view. Sa'akah elbowed Reem in the side, gaining his attention.

"Take Najiya and go," he hissed. "This stuff can only distract them. It might be enough to give you a head-start."

Normally Reem might have argued or felt compelled to stay and help fight; today, his only concern was Najiya's safety. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but he had a clear enough idea; the Sultan wanted Najiya. Their meeting days ago had been preying on his mind ever since, filling him with unease. He should have listened more closely to his intuition.

Reem turned and grabbed tightly to Najiya's hand, pulling him in the opposite direction. Najiya struggled to keep up, turning to see Sa'akah and Aini far behind them, the white mist overtaking them.

"R-Reem… Will they be okay on their own?" Najiya cried, squeezing Reem's hand. "If something happens to them…!"

"Sa'akah can take care of himself," Reem answered, hoping he was right. "Let's just focus on getting you somewhere safe!"

As they turned a corner, Najiya withheld a sob. "Why is all of this happening?" he cried, his strength threatening to abandon him. "First Makarim, then the Sultan, then the entire _world…_ And now this! What could that creepy Sultan _want_ from me?"

"I'd rather not find out," Reem muttered.

The two of them stopped behind a shop, catching their breath as Reem tried to evaluate the situation beyond the back streets.

"We can't stay here… Now that they know we're using these routes, they'll start trying to block us in. We have to find a way out of the city."

"Out of the city?!" Najiya panted, resting his hands on his knees. "We can't just leave everyone like that! What if they need our help?"

"Najiya, I won't allow you to get captured! Gods only know what the Sultan wants with you… I'm worried about everyone as well, but they would be just as worried about you!"

Najiya stood up and shook his head, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes. " _No_! I won't abandon our friends! And you… Reem, I can't have you putting yourself in danger like this for me! What if Sa'akah and Aini are… what if...!"

Reem grabbed Najiya's upper arms and pulled the boy into a firm embrace, burying his face in the boy's neck. Surprised, Najiya slowly reciprocated, fighting the urge to cry out of both frustration and fear.

"I _absolutely_ can't lose you…" Reem said weakly, his resolve trembling along with his voice. "I can't. I'm worried about our friends, but you… I can't. It's selfish, but I'll risk it all to keep you safe." He held him a little more tightly. "Do you understand?"

In lieu of a reply, Najiya burst into quiet tears, pressing his face into Reem's shoulder. The two held each other for several moments, allowing their emotions to return to a state of necessary quietude - both of them were unpleasantly aware that time was not on their side. Reem pulled away, gently tilting Najiya's chin upwards to kiss him. As they parted, Najiya smiled, his long eyelashes peppered with shimmering tears.

"I love you, Reem."

"I love you too." Reem kissed the boy's forehead. "Let's go before someone comes along."

When Reem had deemed it safe enough, the two emptied onto a decimated side street, hand in hand. Normally this narrow street was used for vendors to sell fresh produce, but come morning the men knew no one would be selling anything. Half of the street was on fire, the small shops and homes cracked, one of them completely reduced to rubble. It was truly a sorry scene. The djinn were following their orders well enough, it seemed.

"We'll take the alley up ahead and use the market streets to get to the East exit," Reem proposed as they ran.

"What do we do once we're out?" Najiya asked worriedly.

"I haven't thought that far ahead," Reem admitted guiltily. "I doubt they'll check the river… We might be able to hide out there for-"

A strike of lightning hit the ground, blocking Reem and Najiya's path. Reem lurched back, pulling Najiya behind him.

From the sky, a large, roaring creature with massive wings, a lion head and a serpent's tail swooped down upon them, summoning three more lightning strikes just as Reem attempted to pull Najiya in the opposite direction.

In moments, they found themselves surrounded on both sides by men on horseback; the winged djinn landed neatly on the ground just next to Sultan Akram, who was flanked by his generals and a second djinn who wore the guise of a giant fawn wildcat. The feline watched on in apprehension, her tail swishing anxiously behind her.

"There you are, my little sow-thistle," the Sultan purred fondly, spurring his horse forward. Reem drew his sword, causing a similar response in all of the soldiers surrounding them. The Sultan raised a calming hand, keeping his men at bay.

"There's no need for any more bloodshed, don't you agree?" Akram asked, extending a hand to Najiya. The boy felt his blood run cold. "We are taking our leave now, and I was _so_ hoping you would come with me. Come and live in my palace, and I promise to lavish you with every possible luxury."

Najiya's heart was beating so frantically he felt like his chest might burst. "Wh- No! I-I don't want to, I want to stay here!"

Akram tutted. "It wasn't really a request, sow-thistle." The Sultan gestured to his men; two of his generals dismounted and approached with their weapons drawn. "Please collect him for me, if you would. I am eager to leave this place."

Reem lunged at the first man to approach, their swords clashing. With a yell, Reem managed to knock the man's blade away, causing the man to stumble.

"I will _not_ let you take him," Reem growled. "I'll die before I let that happen."

The Sultan smiled peaceably. "I admire your dedication to your companion." He turned his gaze on Maha. "You there. Please remove this man. Teach him what it means to go against me."

"Miss Maha…!" Najiya whispered in a panic. " _Please…_ "

The wildcat looked almost petrified at the request, but was compelled to obey. She bounded forward, turning on her heel and whipping her tail into Reem's chest, sending him flying forcefully into a pile of frail crates some fifteen feet away. Najiya screamed his name and went to run after him, but he was grabbed by several pairs of hands and roughly pulled onto a horse, firmly held in place by the rider.

" _REEM_!" Najiya fought against his captor, trying to break free as the entourage turned away from the pile of broken crates and started off toward the East city exit. The two djinn followed on either side of the group. "REEM! Are you okay?! Answer me, please! _REEEEEM_!"

"Put him into a nice sleep for me, will you?" the Sultan asked the wildcat. "Just to give him some time to settle down."

Maha met Najiya's large, tear-filled eyes, her own swimming with regret. Najiya shook his head, tears spilling from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. "No… _please…_!"

A deep, pulsing sound echoed in Najiya's mind. Maha's eyes were drilling into his with hypnotizing purpose. Before he felt all of the strength leave his body, he thought he could hear a muffled apology deep in his sleeping mind.

As Najiya slumped forward, unconscious, the company left the city with djinn in tow. Behind them, the city continued to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D:
> 
> Yes, this is all exactly as bad as you think it is.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makarim wakes up, Hafa sees Khuzama again, and Najiya finds someone they’d been looking for.

His hand stung. His throat was burning. Overall he wasn't sure why he was still alive.

Sa'akah fell to his knees, coughing and sputtering, his lungs hot and taut. Far behind him, a village raged with fire. He'd escaped his burning home somehow, and he'd navigated his way through the ravaged streets to try and find Rim, Ghazi and Aini. He'd found no one. Sharik had spread the fire so quickly, Sa'akah wasn't sure anyone had escaped.

Tears dribbled down Sa'akah's cheeks. It was all because of him. His village was burning, his friends and family had been killed. All because he'd broken his promise to Aini, because he was arrogant enough to try controlling a demon. Sa'akah slammed his fist against the ground, yelling out in fury. Slowly he opened his hand to look at the dark gem that had buried itself deeply in his palm. It hurt terribly. Just as Sharik had lunged at him, the charm from Rim's bracelet had lodged itself there. It repelled Sharik somehow. At first he'd been grateful, but now he felt as though he'd been cursed. He didn't deserve to be spared. He deserved to die along with the rest of them.

No. He deserved far worse than that.

Sa'akah laid his forehead to the ground and sobbed.

.

.

.

Sa'akah woke to something prodding his side. By now he was used to animals occasionally pestering him when he chose to sleep out in the open, but he was still exhausted and wanted a few more hours to sleep undisturbed. When he was sleeping, it distracted him from his hunger. Sa'akah swatted the creature away, his hand coming into contact with something large and clearly feathered.

Sa'akah's eyes opened blearily. He was nudged again, this time more forcefully, and with a panicked yell Sa'akah rose and turned. Two hulking, featured creatures stood on either side of him, glaring down at him with bright, alert eyes and sharp beaks. Giant eagles, Sa'akah was sure. Was this some kind of divine judgment? Or Sharik in disguise, come to finish him off? Sa'akah groped for his twisted wooden staff, brandishing it at them.

"St-stay back!" he ordered.

Before his terrified eyes, both of the massive birds bent and shifted, their forms turning to shadow and liquid only to be reformed into human guises. They stared curiously at Sa'akah's shaken figure, both of them tilting their heads toward each other in consideration.

"Solomon's staff? Impressive." the tawny-haired humanoid said thoughtfully.

"That's not all… He has a gem. It's _stuck_ in him, too. Feeding off of his spirit maybe?" the darker of the two took a step closer, looking Sa'akah over. "He's been hurt. It's keeping him alive?"

"Not sure."

Sa'akah lowered the staff, staring at it. Solomon's staff? He'd found it days after he'd left the village, half-buried in sand and stone. He hadn't thought anything was special about it.

"It looks like it's keeping his soul bound to his body. Fascinating. It's definitely the jewel of spirit."

"Definitely."

It was irritating, being spoken of as if he weren't there. Honestly, he wished he wasn't. At this point, all he wanted was for it to end, for these two djinn or spirits or whatever they were to hurry up and do what they were going to do.

"Look at his clothes. Singed. Did he come from that village that burned down?"

"Maybe he set the fire himself," the darker-haired man sneered, leaning closer. Something numb inside of Sa'akah heaved to the surface and overflowed.

" _I didn't_ …!" Sa'akah's emerald eyes glared up at the eagle-men furiously. "I didn't… mean to… it was…" He covered his face with his arm, determined not to show his tears. One of the men clicked his tongue.

"Don't get all carried away now," he said, swiping some light brown hair out of his eyes. "We get it. It was an ifrit, right?" He leaned down to the boy's level, offering him a smile. Despite his cool air, he seemed wary of the staff Sa'akah held. "Can I see your hand?"

When Sa'akah didn't respond, the man gently took his hand and flipped it over, admiring the gem buried deeply in his palm. "Where did you get this?" he asked. Sa'akah said nothing. The man released his hand and sighed. "I'm Kazim. This guy over here," he jabbed a thumb at the darker-haired creature, "is Taysir. We're ghuls. You know what ghuls are, kid?"

Sa'akah knew what they were. Knowing was enough. When neither of the ghul got a reply, Kazim sighed deeply. "Maybe we should just leave you to your… sulking. We can't do anything to you while you have that staff, anyway."

"We're just gonna leave him?" Taysir asked, crossing his arms. Kazim sputtered a surprised laugh.

"What? You want to adopt him or something?"

" _No_ , for fucks sake!" Taysir strode forward and grabbed Sa'akah's hand, pulling the child up roughly by the arm. Sa'akah merely blinked. "He's got one of the _jewels_ in his hand! With this, we-" The ghul broke off in mid-sentence, his eyes going wide. A moment later he flung Sa'akah away, yelling out in surprise, his own hand strangely milky and transparent. He shook out his hand frantically, cursing.

Kazim kneaded his forehead in frustration. "The _spirit gem_ , you fool. It absorbs spirit energy. _We're_ spirits. You can't touch it without expecting to get drained."

Taysir flexed his slowly rematerializing hand. "Well, still…" He shook his hand out, cursing under his breath. "What about the staff? Shouldn't we show him how to use it?"

Sa'akah's head lifted only slightly. The voices of the ghuls were beginning to wear thin on him. "Are you two still talking?" he asked in a small, defeated voice. "Can you just… kill me, or leave me be? Either one of the two will do. Just pick one."

Kazim stared down at the boy and smirked. "Oh, sorry we're _boring_ you," he said. "We thought maybe you'd want to see if any friends or family of yours made it out of the village alive. _Silly us_."

.

.

.

With the vague promise of finding Rim, Aini, Ghazi and his parents, Sa'akah followed the ghul in their eagle guises far North, almost certain he was being led to his death. At this point it didn't matter. He knew he was clinging to his last shred of hope that someone - _anyone_ \- had made it out alive. Only when that hope was completely extinguished would he give up.

The eagles landed near a huge, lavish palace that looked older than the storied King Solomon himself. As Kazim bucked Sa'akah off of his back and transformed back into his human guise, Taysir jabbed a long primary feather at the staff the boy clutched tight in his hands. "Go on then. Use it."

"I still don't know how!" Sa'akah growled, his eyes drawn to the palace in spite of himself. "Why did you bring me _here_ , anyway? What is this place?"

Kazim clamped a hand down on Sa'akah's shoulder, bending over to speak in his ear. "This is the palace of our Master, Shaddad. You need a place to stay, don't you? May as well be here."

Sa'akah frowned skeptically. "Shaddad?" He swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat. "Why would someone with such a magnificent palace welcome a stranger like me?"

The ghul patted Sa'akah's shoulder, chuckling. "Shaddad the human perished long, long ago. We still remain. We have a mission to fulfill, you know." He stood up and his hand slid from Sa'akah shoulder. The boy relaxed. "That shouldn't matter to you right now. What matters is finding your friends, right? So focus on that."

"I can really find them with this thing? You aren't lying to me?" Sa'akah asked skeptically, holding the crooked staff at arm's length. Kazim drew himself up proudly.

"We know how to use the staff in theory even if we can't physically use it. It'll work."

Sa'akah flexed his fingers around the wood, feeling a strange pulse coming from the staff that emanated straight to his stinging palm. "How is this supposed to help me find my friends?" the boy demanded. "If you're lying about this, so help me-"

"Calm down, kid! Geez, have a little faith." Taysir said, now in his human guise and perched cross-legged on a chunk of broken marble that looked as though it had once been part of a much bigger structure. "We don't know _exactly_ how it works, okay? It's not like we have a lot of practice with it, you should be lucky we're even helping you out!"

Sa'akah frowned at the ancient wood. "Fine, how do I use it?"

Kazim clapped his hands together. "Since you have that jewel lodged in your hand, try putting your hand over the curve of the top, and just think about who you want to see." he said. "If it's anything like Solomon's ring, it should just… I don't know, 'do the rest'."

Swallowing what little moisture remained in his throat, Sa'akah slid his aching hand over the curve of the staff as Kazim suggested. Just under the curve, a ball of light blossomed to life, blue and shining. Sa'akah stared at it in awe. He'd been using this chunk of wood to navigate steep dunes and fight off animals; he never expected it could house such interesting magick.

"Looky here! Looks like the jewel is enough." Taysir said, throwing his arms in the air. "Go on then kid, focus on the people you want to see."

Sa'akah almost didn't want to. He was too afraid that nothing would happen, frightened to find that no one had survived. He glanced at the bracelet still circled around his wrist, the dark purple charm now absent.

_I made you that so we can stay connected forever. So that means you definitely can't forget about me, no matter what._

Sa'akah clenched his eyes shut and he smoothed his hand over the top of the staff.

The world and all of its properties broke away and scattered. A sensation surrounded him as though he were being engulfed by warm water, all of his senses clouded by something he couldn't identify. When Sa'akah opened his eyes he was everywhere and nowhere, the world rushing past him, colors and shapes blurred as they appeared and disappeared only for something new to take their place.

In less time than it took for Sa'akah to comprehend what was happening, he came to a scene that slowed and stopped, becoming clear enough to see. He knew this place. It was the basin of the Corys River, farther down than the children were usually allowed to go. Rim and Ghazi were collecting water in a wooden basin, laughing and chatting. Sa'akah's throat tightened with an impending sob. If this was a trick, it was too cruel. Seeing them there after so many weeks of thinking them dead…

Ghazi giggled at something Rim said, splashing water at him. The boy tried to avoid her onslaught and fell over, soaking his pants through. Next to him, a blue crab pinched at the wet cloth. Rim playfully batted the crab's claw away.

"Is this real?" Sa'akah asked, his voice sounding strange and far-away. "Are they really there? Are they really okay?"

"Looks like it," Kazim said thoughtfully. "Do you want to say hello?"

 _Yes. Yes of_ course _I do._ Though the words demanded to be said, Sa'akah bit his tongue and forced them back. He had wanted to see them so badly he never once thought about what he'd do if he actually found them. He stood there, his eyes trained on Rim, feeling like a ghost. What could he say? How could he explain? Nothing came to him. Nothing but crushing guilt and shame.

"No." Sa'akah finally said. "I wanted to make sure they were alright. If I can see them like this, I'm content."

"It looks like they've made their home at a neighboring village," Taysir observed, shielding his eyes against the warped version of the sun. Sa'akah supposed djinn must have excellent vision, because no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't see the village Kazim spoke of.

Rim's sudden voice brought Sa'akah back to his senses.

"What? Behind us?"

Sa'akah's head turned so quickly he nearly made himself dizzy. A cold fear shot through him when he found Rim staring straight into his eyes. Sa'akah's lips opened, and a choked whimper emerged.

"C-can he see me?" he asked in a terrified whisper. He wasn't prepared. He wasn't ready. Rim couldn't know he was here, he _couldn't-_

Taysir scoffed. "They can't see us, kid. We're in the Other World, so-"

"Uh-oh," Kazim hissed through his teeth. "There's a marid with them. That blue crab. _It_ can see us."

Sa'akah couldn't look away from Rim's gaze. The red-haired boy's eyes shifted from right to left, scanning the air. The blue crab climbed into Rim's lap, snapping its claws.

"Time to high-tail it out of here, I think. That marid doesn't seem too thrilled that we're here." Kazim clicked his tongue and patted Sa'akah on the back. "Come on, time for your next lesson. Walk in any direction and you'll travel miles in seconds. Just be careful, don't overshoot or you'll end up in another land entirely."

Rim's eyes unintentionally found Sa'akah's again and held. Even though he was looking right at him, he couldn't see him. Sa'akah was truly a ghost. He was oddly comfortable with that. Rim and Ghazi were okay. That fact alone made him so happy he could cry.

"Kid!" Taysir exclaimed, shoving him urgently in the shoulder. "I'm not in any mood to tackle a marid, okay? Let's go!"

Stealing once last glance at Rim, Sa'akah turned away and took a step. The world blew away again, leaving Rim and Ghazi far behind him.

He stopped only when he saw the palace approaching them. Sa'akah pulled his hand off of the staff and the world came back together, all of the pieces snapping back into place seamlessly. The entire process knocked him off balance, sending him to his knees. When he opened his eyes, Taysir and Kazim were looking down at him curiously.

"You still with us, kid?" Kazim asked.

Sa'akah could barely hear him. "I can't believe they're okay…" he murmured, wiping his eyes on the back of his arm.

"Praise Allah," Taysir rolled his eyes. "Why did you blow them off, after all that? What happened to your happy reunion?"

Sa'akah turned his hand, staring mutely at the jewel buried in his palm for several moments before curling his fingers into a fist. Standing up, Sa'akah brushed off his clothes and bent to pick up the staff. "So people can't see me when I use this thing?" he asked the djinn.

Kazim cocked his head. "When you're in the Other World? 'Fraid not. That's the djinn realm, kid. You're as invisible as they come."

Sa'akah squeezed the gnarled wood between his fingers. "It might be easier if they think I'm gone," he said softly, staring at the ground. "If I can watch over them with this thing, that will be good enough for me."

Taysir grinned. "My, how selfless. 'The hidden hero'."

Sa'akah's eyes darkened. "It's not selfless at all," he said, sliding his hand back over the wooden curve. He had to see who else had been spared from the fire, if any. "Not at all."

.

.

.

Beyond the city, a thin line of gold was carefully framing the dunes, the first promise of morning. The sky was barely visible through the thick haze of smoke that still hung heavy over the city, lingering in a suffocating cloud although the fires had been put out hours ago. The smoke seemed like an extra barrier, making everyone feel more boxed in than they already were. Same Al-Kah soldiers continued to patrol the streets, compelling everyone to stay in their homes to cower. No one could be sure how many lives were lost in the attack. No one had a chance to catch their breath, assess the damage or count their dead what with the threat still being so eminent. It didn't feel over, it merely felt like it had been put on hold.

"Hafa, could you bring me another cloth? Wet, preferably?" Ghazi asked gently, kneeling in front of Reem with a pile of bloodied cloth and rags next to her. Reem was sitting up but unresponsive, his head bowed, his arms resting on his knees. Sa'akah and Aini had found him injured and half-conscious at the edge of town an hour ago, and although he'd come to his senses and been patched up since then, he'd said very little. After telling everyone what had happened to Najiya, he'd gone still and quiet. He put up no resistance as Ghazi saw to his wounds.

"Sure," Hafa answered, his attention fleetingly drawn to the couch under the loft where Rim's body was lying. Aini was sitting next to him, sniffling quietly while dabbing Rim's neck with a cloth. Hafa's heart constricted uncomfortably. He'd been in that position once, with Makarim seeing to him as he slowly crept back to the world of the living. Seeing Aini's red, puffy eyes was almost worse than watching Rim's grueling healing process.

The house was more silent than Hafa had ever heard it. No one knew what to say. Too much was wrong, too many were missing. They had lost the ring and Najiya in one foul swoop, and with the world crumbling to pieces, everything seemed especially hopeless. All they could do now was lick their wounds.

Ren and Ran were making breakfast when Hafa entered the kitchen, both of them quiet and somber. Hafa wasn't sure what to say to them. He didn't feel like anything could make it better short of Najiya coming back safe and sound. He wished more than ever that Makarim would hurry and wake up.

Hafa grabbed a towel and dunked it in the water basin on the counter, wringing it out. Just outside the window, he caught sight of Sa'akah standing alone near the back door, holding his staff in his fists. Hafa weighed his options for a moment before turning to Rani and touching the boy's shoulder.

"Rani, could you bring this to Ghazi?" Hafa asked, handing the cloth to the boy. Rani nodded mutely, obediently turning and leaving the kitchen. Ru'a glanced at the window.

"He's been out there for a while," she said, sniffing and rubbing her nose. "He's trying to do something with his staff."

Hafa smoothed a hand over the top of the girl's head. "I'm going to go see what he's up to."

As the back door creaked open, Sa'akah didn't so much as turn his head. He seemed to emanate pure frustration, though he did well to hide it. Hafa could feel it regardless, hitting him like dark, oppressive waves of unrest.

"Has Rim woken yet?" Sa'akah asked in an even voice. Hafa's gaze lowered.

"No." An unnamed worry was pressing on Hafa's mind. He hadn't known Sa'akah for long but the tension in the air made it clear something was wrong, even more so than usual. Plainly asking what was the matter seemed like a particularly poor idea, partly because Hafa couldn't find the words and partly because - if he was honest with himself - he was slightly afraid of Sa'akah. Fortunately for him, his silence was enough.

"It isn't working." Sa'akah said, tapping his staff against the ground for proof. "The Other World is too unstable. We're running out of time and now our best way of getting the ring back quickly isn't useable."

Hafa wasn't sure what to say. Behind them, there was a house full of people filled with despair and hopelessness. Najiya was missing, Rim was still without a pulse, Makarim was in a deep sleep and the world was presumably ending. The only comfort Hafa had was their ability to walk miles in seconds and take fast action; now, he wasn't sure what their plan was.

"What should we do?" Hafa asked, against his better judgement.

Sa'akah turned, staring Hafa down with fierce blue eyes. "Nothing now. Doing anything while we're all broken and bloody is pointless. Morale is low. We'll wait for Rim and Makarim to wake up before we decide what to do."

"Reem won't be happy." Hafa murmured.

"No, I expect he won't be." Sa'akah replied.

The door clattered open behind them and Ru'a framed the doorway, her face rosy as if she'd been crying. "Haru! Big brother woke up! He's awake!" the little girl cried happily. "Come quick!"

Hafa felt only a small slice of relief before remembering that he would have to recount everything that had happened in the last ten hours to Makarim. Sa'akah glanced at Hafa knowingly.

"You'd better hurry. Makarim will have a lot of questions, no doubt."

.

.

.

Najiya's head was splitting. He could hear voices being carried on the wind and feel the sun beating down unforgivingly on the back of his neck. He was jostled suddenly and tried to open his eyes, only to feel a hand brush comfortingly through his hair, soothing him back into unconsciousness. He tried to fight it, but there were words wound deep inside of his mind that lulled him back to a darker place.

When he next woke, he was somewhere new. The pain in his head was down to a dull roar and the voices were gone, leaving him lying somewhere soft and plush that he couldn't identify. Groaning, Najiya's hand slid to his forehead. His memory was a hazy jumble. He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd come to be there. Najiya sat up, his hand sinking into silky cushions. He opened his eyes, blinking in the low candlelight. As he moved, silk sheets rolled off of his bare chest.

Looking down, Najiya's throat produced a small, fearful gasp. He was entirely nude. Ever more unsettling, he could tell he'd been recently washed. Najiya grabbed the silk sheets and pulled them around himself, his heart in his throat. His eyes darted around, his entire body buzzing with terror. He was in a dimly lit high-ceilinged room, surrounded by lavish decor and furniture. He'd seen enough of Rim's palace to know he was likely in one, and as he arrived at this conclusion, the previous night's events began to rebuild themselves in his mind. A frantic panic overwhelmed him. He could see the moment Reem had been attacked clearly in his mind as though it had just happened.

Najiya needed to escape from wherever he was. He looked around for his clothes but could find no trace of them, only the waves of satin sheets draped over the lush, canopied bed he found himself in. Najiya's stomach swam with sickness. If the Sultan had been hoping to make him feel as vulnerable as possible upon waking, he'd certainly succeeded.

Fortunately, Najiya wasn't given long to stew on this. The curtain at the far end of the room was pulled aside and Sultan Akram entered, dressed in casual evening robes and glittering jewelry. As he entered the room, smiling warmly at Najiya, the Seal of Solomon shone brightly on his hand as he carried a pile of colorful, sparse cloth.

"You are finally awake, my sweet," the Sultan cooed as Najiya clutched the sheets to the bare skin of his chest. "You were asleep for such a long time, I was just coming to wake you."

Najiya flushed furiously. "W-where am I?" Najiya demanded. "Where are my clothes?!"

"Shhh, sowthistle," Akram replied gently, stopping at the foot of the bed. "Be calm. No harm is coming to you here."

"Take me back!" Najiya exclaimed, frustrated that he was already losing his composure. "Take me back to the city! I _don't_ want to be here!"

The Sultan's thin face gazed at Najiya fondly as though he were a child having a tantrum. "But you _are_ here. This is your home now. I realize I did not give you any choice in the matter, but you'll be very comfortable and well taken care of here, I promise."

Najiya gripped the sheets more tightly. "Who undressed me," he asked in a shaking voice.

"Fear not," the Sultan answered softly, raising his hand in a gesture of calm. Najiya felt it was counterproductive. "I had the eunuchs look after you. I would never look upon you without your consent, you know."

It did little to make Najiya feel better. His teeth clenched involuntarily. "You won't be getting my consent. _Ever_."

The Sultan moved around the side of the bed, seating himself at the edge. Najiya reflexively pressed his back into the pillows, dragging the sheets with him. Akram didn't seem to notice or care. "Consent is sometimes a fragile thing that changes with circumstance," he said, setting the articles of cloth next to Najiya on the bed. "Time will tell, I suppose."

"Take. Me. Back." Najiya meant to sound menacing but his voice came out as a plea. "Please. This isn't my home. My home… It's…" He tried and failed to suppress angry tears, and he covered his face with his hands when he found he couldn't hide it. He couldn't express how he felt. Najiya had never felt such a toxic mixture of sadness and rage before. He needed to see Reem. He wanted to know he was okay.

"I understand." said the Sultan. Something moved against Najiya's cheek, gently caressing him. Najiya jumped in surprise, his wide, wet eyes meeting the Sultan's. The color of Akram's eyes was familiar. He couldn't place it, but he knew the color. "I know you're concerned about your friend. He stood up to me, you see, and had to be corrected." Akram's hand cupped the side of Najiya's face, his thumb wiping away his tears. Najiya could feel the cool metal of the Seal burning against his skin. "I am in the habit of getting what I want, sowthistle, and you are my new favorite thing. If you behave for me, I will make sure no harm comes to you."

In a wild moment of desperation and anger, Najiya smacked the Sultan's hand away from his face. A moment later, he was being pinned down into the pillows by strong arms, fingers digging painfully into his shoulders. Najiya yelped, struggling furiously, his heart racing in terror.

Akram stared down at him with cool eyes, his lips pulled into an eerily patient grin. "Now, now. I will forgive your rudeness because I know you are tired and confused. I did not expect that you would accept me so easily. Still… Understand the position you are in, sowthistle, and be sure to show me some respect." Before Najiya knew what was happening, Akram closed the distance between their faces and left a chaste kiss to Najiya's mouth. Half of Najiya wanted to bite him, the other half was too terrified to defy. Tears gathered in his bottom lashes as the Sultan released his shoulders and pulled away, standing up. "I will leave you to get changed. I have brought you many outfits you may choose from… They are all gifts to you. This will be your room for a time, so please, make yourself at home. There will be servants at your beck and call, so please ask for anything you may want."

With a kind, adoring smile, Akram turned and headed from the room, leaving Najiya alone with his thoughts. His arms shaking, Najiya pulled himself up, bringing the sheets to his lips to aggressively scrub them clean. He wasn't sure if it was possible to feel clean, not after that.

Najiya lowered his arms, covered his eyes with his hands and sobbed.

.

.

.

Hafa was generally comfortable with silence, but as Makarim sat quietly after Hafa finished explaining the state of things as best he could manage, the silence only served to drive ice into Hafa's stomach. Makarim rubbed his hand over his mouth, his eyes focused on nothing in particular as he mulled everything over, his brow knitted in distress.

"Are you sure I'm really awake?" Makarim finally asked. Hafa nodded.

"I'm sure. I can slap you if you want."

"N-no, that won't be necessary…" Makarim pulled his fingers through his hair. "Haru… Did I really try to…?" Makarim's eyes trailed guiltily to Hafa's throat, his flesh still lightly bruised.

"No, that was _Sharik_." Hafa said flattly. "It wasn't you. You don't even remember it, do you?"

"Not really, but I…" Makarim chewed on his bottom lip in consideration. "Sharik died, didn't he? How could he have…"

"There are different kinds of possession." Hafa said. "Sa'akah thinks Sharik may have poisoned you with his essence, and his essence then fed off of… negative emotions."

Makarim shook his head, sucking in a tight breath through his teeth. "Still… He used _these_ hands to hurt you. How could I have let something like that happen? How could I have been so _weak…_?"

"Makarim," Hafa grabbed Makarim's hands, holding them firmly in his own. Makarim's eyes met Hafa's, held there by Hafa's stubborn intensity. "Stop blaming yourself. It has nothing to do with weakness. You were sick, and now you're not. I'm not afraid of these hands. I could _never_ be. Okay?"

Makarim squeezed Hafa's hands, averting his gaze to his lap. He nodded. "Okay," he said softly, but with resolve. "I'm sorry. I'll try not to think too hard about it. There are much more important things to focus on." He heaved a heavy, calming sigh. "So… To surmise, Same Al-Kah took our city hostage, Sultan Akram killed Rim, took the ring and kidnapped Najiya and Miss Maha - and just to add insult to injury - the world is ending soon?"

Hafa nodded. "Among other things." He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Do you remember… _anything_ that happened the night Sharik took you? Anything that was said?"

There was a tense moment of silence as Makarim fought to remember. All of a sudden he looked at Hafa with a worried expression. "Some things, toward the end," he said softly. Hafa stiffened. Makarim squeezed his hand a little more firmly. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want-"

"No, we need to," Hafa said decisively. "I'm done hiding things. I just wanted to be sure…" he looked away, unable to meet Makarim's eyes, "...I wanted to be sure you were comfortable with it. With all of it."

"Haru, if you're talking about your body…"

"I am." Hafa said, still staring pointedly at the wall. "My body isn't my own."

"I don't care about that. I don't care what form you take, Haru, you're _mine_." Makarim touched Hafa's cheek, gently guiding his face to meet his eyes. "Do you understand? I know that accepting something like that must be difficult… but…. I need you to believe that it doesn't bother me in the slightest. You are you. No one else."

Hafa nodded again. He breathed in a sigh and let it out slow. "Thank you."

Makarim smiled, stroking his knuckle along Hafa's cheekbone. "Now… Before we go downstairs, is there anything else I need to know about this 'end of the world' business?"

"You seem awfully calm about that," Hafa said, pushing his cheek needily against Makarim's hand. Makarim chuckled.

"There's no sense in panicking when we have so many other things to worry about," Makarim pointed out. "The world was in danger of ending a few months back, remember? We'll figure out something."

A loud slam coming from downstairs shook the upper floor, distracting both men from their conversation. Several voices began talking all at once, but it was Ghazi's that rose above the others:

" _Reem_! You can't, you're not even- Aini, come _quick_!"

Hafa and Makarim exchanged a look before hurrying to the stairs. Both of them had an idea of what may have been happening before they even saw Reem trying to force his way out the front door, both Ghazi and Aini trying and nearly failing to hold him back.

"Let's me go!" Reem commanded in a furious tone that seemed foreign coming from his mouth. "This doesn't concern either of you-"

"Like hell it doesn't'!" Aini barked fiercely. "The _last_ thing we need right now is you going off on your own! You have a _head wound_!"

"Reem, don't!" Makarim shouted, gaining everyone's immediate attention. The relief to see Makarim awake and well was short-lived. Reem yanked his arm away from both Ghazi and Aini, stumbling with the effort.

"I'm going!" Reem said firmly. "I can't just wait around when that maniac has Najiya!"

Sa'akah appeared as suddenly as an apparition and stepped in front of the door, his height and build serving as an intimidating blockade. He flashed his sea-green eyes down at Reem with severe purpose. "Don't be foolish. In your current state, you'll never even make it outside the city."

Reem took a sharp breath in through his teeth, and reared back his arm to line up a punch. " _Shut up and let me pass_!" Sa'akah didn't so much as flinch when Reem's fist shot toward his face; he caught Reem's fist in his hand, slipping to grab his wrist and pull him around. Reem fought against him, his face warped with fury. "Get off! Let me _go_ , bastard!"

Makarim stepped up and grabbed Reem by the shoulders firmly. Reem glared at him defiantly, but there was a flicker of misery behind his lilac irises that was unmistakable and heart-breakingly familiar.

"Reem, listen to me. I know exactly how you feel. It wasn't long ago that _you_ were convincing _me_ not to leave, right?" Makarim asked softly. Reem stopped jerking, his expression softening. He looked down, his eyes shining.

"You still went, even after we tried to convince you to stay." Reem murmured. "All I ask is that you grant me the same."

"We can't do that." Makarim said firmly. "I admit that I didn't listen to you then, and it ended up being alright in the end… But there's more at stake here than one life, Reem. We can't allow the Sultan to pull us apart any more than he already has. In order to rescue Najiya, we all need to work together and come up with a solid plan, okay?"

Reem's shoulder's sagged. Sa'akah released him, and Reem grabbed Makarim's arms for stability, his fingers shaking. "I just want to see him…" he said softly, miserably. Without a thought Makarim pulled Reem into a hug.

"I know. I promise we'll get him back and set everything right, Reem. I promise."

Blind reassurance, Hafa thought. When Makarim said it, however, Hafa felt hopeful.

.

.

.

Both Rim and Reem needed time to heal. That was unavoidable. Based on Hafa's own experiences, he estimated Rim might recover in another few hours; once Rim was awake, they'd all agreed to construct some sort of plan to reclaim the ring and their friends. In the meantime, Makarim suggested they search the city to assess the damage done and look for possible escape routes. It was more than likely a ploy to keep them busy and take their minds off of how grim their situation was, but Hafa knew it was all they could do until Rim woke. Sa'akah elected to accompany them. Hafa wondered if Sa'akah wanted to avoid seeing Rim as he was, or if he was feeling guilty about Najiya's abduction.

The three of them navigated the streets carefully, watchful of Same Al-Kah soldiers. The streets were quiet and frightened; the citizens were dolefully attempting to clear away the wreckage and share food and water when the soldiers were distracted. No one was sure what they were and weren't allowed to do, and it was putting everyone on edge. Sa'akah clicked his tongue behind his teeth in irritation.

"It's all just an elaborate intimidation tactic. These men are stationed here just to make everyone nervous."

"I get that impression too," Makarim said regrettably. "I can't believe all of this happened while I was asleep…"

"You didn't have much choice in the matter," Hafa pointed out.

"I know, but… Still."

"Hey, Hafa." Sa'akah grabbed the back of Hafa's shirt, forcefully halting him. Hafa shrugged Sa'akah off crossly, frowning at him.

"What?"

Sa'akah was staring off to their left, his eyes narrowed with focus. "That guy. You know him, right? Wasn't he with the Sultan?" He nodded at the object of his attention, and Hafa obediently followed his gaze.

Khuzama. Alone and unaccompanied, Khuzama was kneeling down in front of a crying child, saying words to him that appeared to be making the little boy cry harder.

All three men moved at once, though Sa'akah was the first to take action. He seized Khuzama by the back of his neck and pulled him roughly to his feet, grabbing fistfuls of his cream-colored thawb to bring his face in close. Khuzama's eyes were wide, his mouth open in wordless surprise.

"You. You're that rat Sultan's right-hand man, right?" Sa'akah growled. "You helped him do all this, right?"

"I- listen, I swear, I didn't have a choice-"

"Tell me what he's planning," Sa'akah continued, holding Khuzama so tightly he managed to lift the man's feet off the ground. "Start talking."

"Let him go!" the little boy suddenly exclaimed, wiping furiously at the tears dribbling down his pink cheeks. "Put my big brother down!"

"Haytham, don't! Stay back!" Khuzama yelped, trying to sound calm. "It's fine, everything's fine-"

"Wait, Sa'akah," Makarim grabbed one of Sa'akah's hands firmly in his own, glancing from Khuzama to the little boy. "Put him down. Please."

Sa'akah's grip slackened, and with a sigh he lowered Khuzama to the ground. Khuzama landed on his knees and coughed, rubbing his collar. The little boy ran to him, throwing his small arms around Khuzama's neck and sobbing into his shoulder. Khuzama held him comfortingly, glancing up at the three men with an apologetic expression.

"That's Haytham?" Hafa asked quietly. Khuzama nodded with a soft smile, stroking his fingers through Haytham's hair.

"I'm surprised you remember, Haru. I'm flattered." He shifted his gaze in shame. "I hoped you would have listened to my warning. I wanted you to leave before all of this happened."

"But you're still here?" Makarim asked, kneeling down next to the man and the weeping child. "Why didn't you leave with the rest of them?"

Khuzama sighed. "That was the deal," he answered in a quiet voice, as though he were trying to keep it a secret from his little brother. "If I helped the Sultan find the ring, he would release me and my brother." His expression darkened. "He's a man of his word."

"Alright fine," Sa'akah cut in, crossing his arms. "How you ended up in this situation is irrelevant. All that matters is the information you have."

"I'll be happy to tell you anything I know," Khuzama answered, deflated. Haytham was calming down, his small shoulders still jerking with the occasional sob. Khuzama continued to hold him tightly.

"Not here," Hafa said. "We'll draw too much attention like this."

"I agree." Makarim stood up and offered a hand to Khuzama to help him stand. Khuzama scooped up his brother in one arm and grabbed Makarim's hand gratefully. "Let's go back to my place. We can get Haytham all cleaned up and get you both something to eat."

.

.

.

It was several hours before Najiya gathered up the courage to try and escape his room.

There was no door, only a massive decorative curtain hanging from the only doorway in or out. He knew there was someone standing outside the door, he could hear them occasionally speaking with others in the hall. It was a guard, more than likely. Najiya had nothing to use as a weapon, not so much as a twig. He'd searched his room high and low and come up with nothing but the sparkling clothes the sultan had left him.

None of the outfits did well to cover his body. He chose the most modest of the bunch, a lavender and gold ensemble with jewels lining the low waistline, transparent silk harem pants and virtually nothing to cover his chest and arms save for a piece of heavy gold neckwear that was glistening with expensive jewels. Thin gold chains were attached to the sides of the elaborate necklace, hanging loosely over his shoulders. The necklace was gaudy and achingly useless, but it somehow felt better to have something on than nothing at all.

Najiya listened at the door for some time, waiting for the guard to leave his post. When it was clear that wasn't happening anytime soon, Najiya weighed his choices. He hadn't been told he couldn't leave the room, so the easiest option was to simply walk out and hope he wasn't stopped. He doubted the Sultan would want him harmed, so even if he were to try and get away, he had no guarantee things would end violently. He had to try _something_.

Filling his lungs with a deep breath, Najiya squared his shoulders and pushed the curtain aside. It was hard to act with confidence when he was wearing such a demeaning outfit, but somehow he steeled himself and walked through the doorway, biting the inside of his cheek.

He expected a voice to shout at him or a hand to grab him, but neither of those things happened. Unable to hide his surprise, Najiya turned to glance at the guard. A bronze-skinned, broad-shouldered man stared back at him, arms crossed, a curved sword tied at his waist. From his style of dress, Najiya could only assume he was a eunuch.

"Am… Am I allowed to leave?" Najiya asked after a moment of mutual silence.

"The room, yes. The inner palace, no." the man replied stiffly. "The Sultan Akram wishes for you to be happy and comfortable. Is it His wish that you do as you please, within reason."

Najiya felt a cold stab of fury in his chest. He felt like a fool, hiding in his room for so long. He could have left at any point, but he was no less trapped than before. The Sultan made sure of that.

"Thank you," Najiya murmured numbly, and turned to leave.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but he certainly wasn't going to wait around in his room until the Sultan saw fit to visit him again. Even if every door and window was being guarded by armed men, he would savor every ounce of freedom he was offered. It was all he could do not to lose his mind with worry. At least if he could map out where the exits were, he'd have a better chance of escaping if he were granted such an opportunity.

He roamed the halls for the better part of an hour, avoiding the hall guards at all costs. As he predicted, every hallway breaking off into the outer palace was heavily guarded by both men and djinn. The djinn were still disguised in their looming, intimidating animal forms, watching him from afar as he passed. Najiya felt the hair on the back of his neck stand rigid when their eyes were on him. He wondered if Maha was among them, ordered into silence.

Answering his query before it had even been spoken, Najiya was suddenly grabbed around the middle and pulled into a dark corner next to an even darker staircase. Huge, glowing ember eyes flew into Najiya's field of vision, and he stifled a gasp.

"Najiya!" Maha's voice squeaked out, her form quickly changing into her usual female guise, floating in front of Najiya with her hands clamped together and her expression practically tearful. "I'm _so sorry_ , Najiya, I didn't want to do any of that, I _swear_ to you-"

"Miss Maha, I know, it's okay," Najiya quickly replied, raising his hands in assurance. "But Reem, do you know if he's okay?"

Maha bit her bottom lip. "I was ordered to "remove" him, so I made sure not to hit him hard enough to do any serious damage. He might have some cuts and bruises, but otherwise I just wanted to knock him out so that he wouldn't..." she sighed miserably, "so he wouldn't keep _trying_ , you know? If he had kept at it, I might have been ordered to kill him."

Najiya let a slow, steady breath blow through his lips. "So he's okay," Najiya breathed, placing a hand over his wildly beating heart. "He's okay. And he's definitely coming for me, and the ring."

"More than likely," Maha agreed, seeming more at ease now that she was sure Najiya wasn't upset with her.

"Are you allowed to be talking to me?" Najiya asked curiously. "Could you get in trouble?"

"Only if the Sultan finds out we're friends," Maha answered in a low voice, "which is why we have to make this quick. The only order I've been given at the moment is to ensure you don't leave the palace. But there is absolutely _no_ order in place to prevent me from taking you to the dungeon."

Najiya blinked. "The dungeon?" He glanced beside them at the dark staircase. "Why would we…?"

"There's something you need to see. Quickly, while the guards are rotating. Come on." Maha floated down the stairs and out of sight, gesturing for Najiya. Without hesitation, Najiya hastily followed.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Maha's human form had vanished and an orange cat was trotting quickly along the row of old iron cells, most of them empty until they reached the very end of the cellblock. She pawed the bars of the last cell insistently. Najiya's ears were buzzing, waiting for the telltale jingle of keys or loud clang of metal to mark the arrival of a guard.

"Miss Maha," Najiya whispered urgently, stopping in front of the last cell, "how long until the guards come back? Are you _sure_ it's safe to…" He trailed off, momentarily forgetting how to form words entirely. He felt distinctly as though he'd been dunked in cold water. His lips parted to issue a soft gasp.

"S-Siraj al Din…"

Siraj al Din was strung up on the far wall of his cell, his arms chained above his head, his bare chest glistening with sweat and dried blood. His face was blotched with old and new bruises, most of them fading into unpleasant memories. It was hard to tell in the low light of the dungeon, but it looked as though his stomach, chest and arms were bruised in the same grim manner. The horrific nature of the scene shocked Najiya into a dumb silence, but he was jarred back to reality when Siraj al Din twitched in his chains, showing the weakest sign of life Najiya had ever seen. Najiya flew to the bars, grabbing them in his hands so tightly his knuckles bleached white.

"Siraj al Din!" Najiya hissed urgently, his heart thumping hard against his ribs. "Hey, are you okay? Answer me!"

One of Siraj al Din's eyes slowly opened, a look of confused recognition forming on his face. He managed to turn his head enough to look at the bars.

"Najiya," he spoke, his voice cracked and thick, as though he hadn't spoken in days. He was silent for a long moment, staring hard at the blonde looking in at him. "Are you real?"

"Yes!" Najiya piped, pressing his face between the bars. "It's really me! Siraj al Din, what _happened_ to you? Why are you _here_?"

Siraj al Din turned his gaze away slowly, issuing a hollow laugh. "I should be asking _you_ that," he answered softly. "What the hell is going on…"

"Siraj al Din," Najiya glanced around furtively, aware that their time was short, "Listen, Sultan Akram has the ring! He stole it and took our city hostage, and to make matters worse, the world is sort of ending." Najiya groaned. "I realize how ridiculous that all sounds now that I've said it outloud, but that's really the best I can do."

"Has he found my brother?" Siraj al Din asked.

"Mumyi? Uhm, I don't think so. Mumyi left and didn't tell us where he was going, though, and we haven't seen him since. It was right before Same Al-Kah invaded the city."

Siraj al Din let out a relieved sigh. "He must have known he was coming. Smart kid."

Najiya frowned. "He knew? Why didn't he say anything before he left, then?"

Siraj al Din's gaze was fixed on the floor. His dry lips pulled into a sad smile. "Mumyi has more reason to be afraid of Akram than anyone." he said. "He's tried to kill him before. Akram wants the gem he has."

"The jewel of wind," Najiya mumbled. "He wants to make the Seal of Solomon complete, is that it?"

"Who knows," Siraj al Din answered. "Originally he just wanted a claim to the throne."

At the opposite end of the cellblock, Najiya could hear loud footfalls on the stairs. Maha transformed into a mouse and scurried onto Najiya's shoulder. "We have to go," she hissed in his ear.

"The throne?" Najiya asked quietly, curiosity winning against urgency. "What do you mean?"

Distant voices chatted on the stairs. Najiya stepped away from the bars, the fingers of his right hand still touching the iron, ready to make his escape but determined to have his question answered. Siraj al Din's yellow eyes fell on Najiya, brighter and more intense against the dark bruises and dirt that covered his face. Najiya realized before Siraj al Din could get the words out. He'd seen those eyes just hours ago.

"Akram is our uncle," Siraj al Din said, the words obviously bitter on his tongue, "and Mumyi is the rightful heir to his throne."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME /maniacal laughter 
> 
> I am so sorry for my long hiatus! I'm back and determined to finish this thing, along with all the other projects I left on the back burner. How many of you are still with me? ROLL CALL TIME. GO.
> 
> Quick note: For those of you who don't know, a eunuch is a man who has been castrated so that he may perform royal duties without fear of getting frisky with anyone. Eunuchs were highly trusted by royalty, and usually served as guards over harems, royalty or just women in general.


End file.
